Essence of Colby NaNo 2009 unedited
by jadvisioness
Summary: Ian Edgerton goes looking for answers regarding the death of his lover and finds a lot more than he ever bargained for. READ WARNINGS inside please. ON HOLD at this time; see profile for info.
1. Essence of Colby Prologue NaNo 2009

I decided that my 'dragon' story was much too complicated for my first attempt at NaNo so... I've decided to post something of an AU to my '_For Good of County_' story that I'm originating – and that I've posted an excerpt of here, which has been slightly rewritten.

(As those familiar with it will notice, it has the same beginning, which I've done a little rewriting to. Please read it because it will be going in a totally different direction than previously posted /chuckle.)

For that reason, the first section doesn't count towards my NaNo total; however, the reason I'm using it is that it's a really great opener for a story so... /laugh. Please, also rememeber that NaNo is based on quantity – 50k words in 30 days – and not on quality, although I have done my best at catching myself with typos and such.

I'm mainly looking for feedback on this; at any rate, here's the first section. Enjoy!

Tentative title: Essence of Colby  
Characters/Pairings: Ian/Colby implied; Ian/Don unrequited/UST; mentions of other people and relationships  
Fandom: Numb3rs  
Rating: PG13 to NC17, read at your own discretion  
Warnings: Whole series to be safe; bad!Don; lots of things military; deep thinking includes thoughts of life, death, religion, Native American Medicine People; mild discussion of alcoholism; mild discussion of (off-camera) attack of homosexual males, as well as death and suicide.  
Disclaimer: Own nothing; just for fun  
_Summary: Ian Edgerton goes looking for answers regarding the death of his lover and finds a lot more than he ever bargained for._

Warning continued but needs SPOILER: presumed character death.

* * *

While Ian and David ran around to the back of the house, Terry and Don came in the front. Clearing the first floor, Terry and Don started up the stairs to the second floor while the other two made their way down to the basement. However, just as the men reached the bottom of the stairs, a gunshot rang out above them.

Ian and David turned and raced back up the stairs; reaching the main floor, they cautiously rounded the corner and made their way towards the staircase just in time to see Don and their suspect tussling at the top of the stairs with Don hitting the railing and then losing his footing. As the lead agent began to tumble down the stairs, their suspect began to back away from the landing, David's gun targeting him from the main floor, but when he turned to run, he found Terry, her own firearm pointed at him, just a couple of feet away.

As Ian kneeled beside the Special Agent in Charge of the Los Angeles FBI office, cell in hand calling for an ambulance, David moved to cuff the suspect while Terry covered him.

Fortunately, when Don started his tumble, he'd tried to tuck himself into a ball and put his arms up in an attempt to protect his head. Partially successful, Don was at least conscious and trying to regain the breath that had been knocked from his body when the sniper stooped beside him.

As their cuffed and mirandized suspect was taken into custody, Don tried sitting up. However, when a pain filled groan escaped him, Ian gently pushed the SAC back to the floor. Ian noticed the increased pallor Don was exhibiting and became concerned with the possibility of cracked or broken ribs. While the sniper knew the other wasn't the type of person to complain – he wouldn't have lasted as long in this career if he did – if Don had a broken rib and wasn't moved carefully, he could very well puncture a lung, his heart or any other internal organ.

Inwardly shaking his head at the man, Ian once again thought that, if it wasn't for the man's stubborn streak and his need for control, he would have made an excellent soldier; his obvious leadership drive would have made Don unable to do anything other than become an officer though.

Looking to the sniper, Don saw concern morph into a smirk before Ian chuckled slightly.

"I have the best time with you guys."

Don had the absurd notion to laugh. He was crashing from the adrenaline rush that always came with a dangerous situation; Ian was near, smiling and touching him; David and Terry were unharmed and their suspect was now in custody. Don knew if he gave in to the rush it would be agony, but the more he resisted, the harder it got. His laughter morphed into coughing and his face, having regained some of its color, turned paler; his arms moved to curl protectively around his ribs as he struggled to breathe through the pain and curl up on himself.

Ian grabbed a throw pillow from a nearby couch and quickly moved to help Don sit up, forcing it between Don's arms and chest. "Little breathes," he coached, unconsciously rubbing Don's back with one hand, the other settling on his upper leg near one knee. "Just take it slow and easy."

Don nodded, lashes damp with unshed tears, eyes holding a mix of pain and annoyance.

"Just trying to help." Ian said noncommittally, his face closing up and taking his hands away.

Don closed his eyes, inwardly wrestling with himself, his temper and his weaknesses; cursing himself for making Ian aware of what he was doing with his hands as well as himself for relishing the contact. He'd never been one to take comfort or being fussed over, well. Opening his eyes, he focused on the sniper once more, still forcing himself to breathe through the pain, "I… know."

Ian accepted the comment for what it was – a bit of an apology and a thank you – before turning towards the front door as the paramedics were guided in by a police officer.

****

When Ian returned to the ER cubicle Don had been shuffled into after being asked to wait outside the room, the doctor was just beginning to examine the x-ray films that had finally arrived. Eppes nodded at the doctor's findings and instructions and then the doctor made his exit. Considering what _could_ have happened, the agent was incredibly lucky to have escaped the incident with only bruises and a fractured rib.

Don grimaced as he moved to put his shirt back on while Ian asked if he'd been given anything for the pain.

When the sniper noticed sweat beginning to break out on the SAC's forehead, and since his fingers itched to touch Don, Ian mentally said 'what the hell' and moved to help the injured man put his shirt on. His fingers tingled at the slight brushing of skin against skin and the sniper pulled his hands away from Don as quickly as he could after the shirt was in place.

Don once again nodded his thanks, "Yeah, but I don't need to have that prescription filled," he motioned to the script that lay on the bed, "I still have stuff at home from the last time I was injured."

Ian raised an eyebrow, then asked the obvious. "And when was that?"

The response was almost lost as the agent gathered his belongings and started making his slow way out of the room. "Uh… couple of years ago, I guess."

Ian sighed, not bothering to hide the roll of his eyes, covertly grabbing the script. He'd fill it later and resort to grinding up the medication and pouring it into Don's coffee if he had to.

****

Don refused to go home to rest so once they returned to the office, he and the rest of the team set about taking care of all the paperwork that was required of them in the apprehension of their suspect. Ian opted to stay in the office to do his share instead of saving it for his return to Virginia, using the time to keep an eye on the lead agent.

As the day wore on, Don trudged through the paperwork of their current case and then others, wishing that every breath didn't feel like his chest was going to give way on him. Then, just as he reached to his telephone to call his brother regarding some work on another case, Terry stayed his hand and pointed at her own watch.

Don sighed and wiped a hand down his face. As if registering the time was some type of signal, his body was swamped with fatigue and more pain. Struggling to keep his demeanor as cool as usual, he nodded his head.

Ian saw Don shake his head to Terry's offer of taking him home and suggestion of getting some sleep. As she turned to ask if David needed a ride, Terry glanced to the sniper and shrugged her shoulders. Once she and David left, however, Ian walked over to Don, intent on getting him out of the office.

Turning the computer off, Ian didn't let the agent's glare affect him. "Don, you fell down a staircase, spent a good portion of the day in the emergency room, the bad guy's in lockup, the paperwork's done and Terry and David have gone home for the night. I'd say that's enough for today, wouldn't you?"

Put that way, Don really had a hard time justifying anything other than heading home for a few hours of rest. Ian could see the lead agent's stubborn resolve reluctantly melting away as the events of his fall began to take their toll on his body.

"Come on, I'll drive."

****

Don spent more time at Charlie and his dad's than he did at his own apartment and Ian could tell. The place didn't really have a 'lived in' feeling but it did the job – gave the lead agent a place to sleep, eat and shower.

The first thing Don did was head to the fridge. "You want a beer?"

"No," Ian reached past him and exchanged Don's beer for a bottled water and then closed the appliance door.

Before Don could say anything, Ian was holding out one of the pain reliever tablets the doctor had prescribed. "You don't have to prove anything to me, Don."

Don's temper flared, "I'm not trying to prove anything to you, I just don't think it's necessary."

Ian looked him straight in the eyes, a foot separating them. "You trying to prove it to yourself then? Because you don't have to endure the pain when there isn't any reason for it."

Don looked at the FBI sniper for a moment and then went around him. Grabbing a glass from a cupboard, he opened the fridge and pulled out a half gallon of milk. Taking off the top, he gave the contents a sniff and then poured the glass full.

Turning around, he looked at Ian once more and then held his hand out. Ian inwardly smiled, not wanting to give Don a reason to change his mind, and gave him the pain pill.

****

While Don knew himself to be a firm heterosexual male, he'd come across a handful of men who had, completely unknowingly, piqued his interest. He had felt so attracted to a couple of them that he'd had to take himself in hand, several times, which made him very upset, angry and disgusted with himself. Don had finally had to stop all contact with them in order for him to regain his equilibrium.

However, one of the males that he'd never been able to get out of his system was Ian Edgerton. Every time Ian showed up, it was a battle to treat him as just another agent, another male, one that didn't make it necessary to take cold showers whenever he had the chance. Yes, Ian deserved respect, but he highly doubted the FBI sniper would approve of his dick standing up and saluting him.

Even though Don and Ian were the same age, while Ian had spent time in the military, Don had been in a minor league baseball team before chucking it in and joining the FBI. After his years in the Fugitive Recovery unit, he had moved to teaching at Quantico for a short period of time before accepting a leadership position in New Mexico. That had ended when he moved back to California to be with his family as his mother struggled, and eventually lost her battle, with cancer.

While Don was in FR, Edgerton had infrequently made contact with them. After Don's brief introduction to him, Eppes knew that he would have to make himself scarce whenever they met up with the man because Ian was stunning; Don automatically put him in the 'do not anything' part of his mind. Thank God, Coop, his partner, didn't have any problem with being point man for them with the sniper.

Don had been out of FR for several months now, having transferred to a supervisory position in New Mexico, when he'd gotten the invitation to be a guest speaker at the academy. It was there that he came face to face with Ian, with no one around to act as a buffer and, no matter how much Don wanted to forget the event, the image of the sniper was burned into his mind.

Probably forever.

**_**Flashback**_**

Many people would be surprised to know that the FBI Academy was pretty much like any other educational facility. But most people wouldn't be, to find out that, considering the high pressure of law enforcement, stress levels were higher than usual for the curricula that was being taught.

However, they would probably be astonished to learn that Quantico had its share of jokers.

There seemed to be at least one prankster per group that came through the Academy at any given time. The time that Don Eppes met Ian Edgerton, there were two. And they seemed to be having a competition. It was that, that brought Agents Eppes, dressed in a suit, on his way to speaking to an afternoon class, face to face with the FBI sniper, naked… well, mostly.

The look on the man's face was cold, dangerous and, Don had to admit, _very_ scary. Ian had obviously just gotten in from an exercise, his face and parts of his hands were covered in camouflage paint – smeared as if he'd had just enough time to start washing his face. Ian's hair was plastered to his head, purple lather dripping down his body to soak into the low-hanging, white towel with purple speckles that was wrapped around his waist.

Trying not to look too closely, Don realized that whatever the purple stuff was, it stained. Ian's hair had a purple tinge to it and there were streaks and dots all over his body, at least the top half. Don didn't trust himself not to look past the man's chest, nor did he think the sniper would allow him to live if he even _looked_ like he was looking.

When Ian spoke, it was in complete contrast to the fire in his eyes, which, Don swore, would make an inferno of whoever the man was looking for. Ian's voice seemed to freeze the very air around him. "Anyone run by you?"

Don found himself swallowing before he answered, just to get some saliva in his mouth, even though he only shook his head.

Edgerton looked at him, as if he were judging Eppes' soul, before moving passed. Don found himself following the man with his eyes and he had to swallow again for an entirely different reason.

Much later, Don wondered if the academy was going to implement any rules regarding pranksters, especially when it came to stealing clothing and filling shower heads with purple food coloring just before sniper evaluations.

**_**End Flashback**_**

Don sighed, _And now he's here in my apartment, sleeping in the guest room_. However, before he could do much more, his body gave itself over to its exhaustion and he dropped into sleep.

****

In said guest room, the man who was causing Don to think so much was also thinking about Don.

Edgerton had suspected for some time that the man was interested in him; however, the sniper had no wish to turn Don's world upside down with disrupting the firm heterosexual view of his sexuality that the lead agent obviously worked very hard to maintain. While Ian knew there was something between them, obvious attraction for one, he wouldn't be the one to act on it.

Ian yawned, stretching his long, toned body under the covers of the bed. No, he wouldn't act on whatever it was that drew him to Don, not with Colby still in the equation. _Definitely_ not, if Colby was still available, still interested in him after all this time; Ian would wait.

His mind finally beginning to settle down from the day, his eyes growing heavy, the sniper allowed himself to reminisce over his and Colby's time together, slowly falling into slumber.

* * *

The first time he'd met Colby Granger, the big blonde had been sitting under one of the few trees at base camp in the Middle East, reading a letter, a book in his lap. Considering the pristine condition of the paper, Ian assumed it had arrived in the mail package that had been on the same transport he'd come in on.

As the sniper continued to study the blonde, Granger had raised the bottle of beer that had been hiding on the other side of him and Ian caught sight of a box sitting close to the tree near the man's back. Assumption confirmed.

While Ian had seen his share of soldiers, all shapes, colors and attitudes, Colby had had an unusually strong, calm and somewhat gentle 'feel' to him – something that wasn't common among men of his size and build. Certain that the man wasn't knowingly projecting the image, Ian would have bet that anyone who didn't know the blonde would think of him as the perfect, stereotypical big-dumb meathead. Granger's physique, being that of a linebacker for some football team, or just simple cannon fodder, would certainly back up that impression.

"Something I can do for you, Sir?"

The lazy drawling, whiskey voice immediately hit Ian hard in the stomach, sending pleasurable tingles down to his groin.

While his rank was well above Granger's, it was a reasonable question; especially as Ian preferred to travel as anonymously as possible in relatively unmarked fatigues and had opted not to introduce himself.

_Just enjoying the view,_ the sniper mused inwardly. "Nope, sorry." Ian started walking passed the blonde, surreptitiously looking into the box as he headed to the camp's headquarters.

****

Over the next four days of Edgerton's mission, he couldn't take his mind completely off the man he'd observed. Although Ian had always been attracted to the opposite sex, over time he had found himself increasingly drawn to men. While Ian had only been involved in a handful of relationships over his lifetime, two having been formed in the military, they weren't something he fought against or specifically pursued either. However, there was something… something very… there was something Ian couldn't give words or voice to that was drawing him to the big blonde, making his previous casual attitude seem tawdry.

While the sniper knew Granger wasn't a saint – he couldn't be and be a soldier – he also knew, based on the titles of the books he'd seen, that the soldier wasn't the meathead either. Ian wondered how many people actually knew the big blonde and if there was a way he could be one of them.

After his mission was complete, Ian was waiting on transport to his next destination when he met up with Granger again. The soldier was sitting outside a small bar, hands occupied with another book. While the last had been something light hearted, this one appeared to be on the other side of the spectrum. Next to him were two other books of different subject matter.

_Definitely still waters running deep_, he couldn't help thinking. Before the other could call Ian on his presence again, the sniper walked up to the soldier and introduced himself this time.

Over the course of the next two days, Ian had gotten to know a bit about Colby Granger. He found that, unlike a variety of military personnel overseas, Colby wasn't into getting his rocks off just for the sake of doing so or drinking to get drunk. While he was quiet, it wasn't because he didn't have anything to say or that he wasn't intelligent – the books were proof of that – it was that he preferred to listen to the majority of conversations around him instead of participating in them, mostly due to his lack of interest with the topics.

And, unlike Ian, Colby came from a somewhat large family; a family with five generations of military history. However, while the sniper had met soldiers who were simply doing what was expected of them, Colby actually believed in what he was doing; believed that he was making a difference in the world. Edgerton believed that if Colby hadn't followed in the footsteps of his military relatives, he definitely would have gone into law enforcement, perhaps even something like firefighting or search and rescue.

Too soon it was time for Ian to move on and they promised to keep in touch.

****

A few months later, Ian had been setting up his sniper nest near a well traveled 'road' for the first of a handful of missions in the area, when there was the distinctive sound of an RPG. Instinctively ducking down, the sniper tried pinpoint the source of the noise; however, before Ian could, there was an explosion far off to his right.

Using his binoculars, he saw that a humvee, probably the vanguard of a regular patrol, was enveloped in flames. Edgerton was much too far away to offer assistance and, despite his need to help, Ian's mission was highly classified and he was incommunicado, complete radio silence.

Focusing the field glasses even further, Ian could barely see the driver struggling with something as the passenger was desperately trying to get them both out of the vehicle. Biting his lower lip to keep himself silent as he watched the drama unfold, Ian saw the flames burning brighter and higher, two unknown soldiers' lives getting closer and closer to being ended.

As two other military vehicles came into view, barreling down the road to reach them, the passenger freed himself and started working on the trapped driver. Seconds ticked by, the other vehicles getting closer, the flames getting hotter and more intense. Finally, the driver was free and the two struggled to make it away from the enflamed vehicle.

Just as the other transports reached them, the humvee exploded.

Edgerton continued to watch the area, his eyes darting back to the activity near the burned vehicle, until the two military trucks left with the injured men, leaving the bombed humvee to the scavengers.

When the sniper's missions in the area were complete a week later and he was back at the base camp, Ian was able to ask after the two men he'd seen and was shocked to find that Colby had been the driver. Finding out that Granger had been sent to the closest military hospital with a burn unit, Ian made sure he was aboard the first available transport that was heading that way.

While they each suffered a mixed degree of burns, the passenger, Dwayne Carter, would be staying a bit longer before being sent home on medical leave due to his third degree burned hands. Granger was scheduled to begin his medical leave just two days after Ian made it to the hospital. Fortunately, his upper left arm was the only area on his body that was classified as third degree. While Colby obviously wanted to make sure that Dwayne was taken care of, Carter seemed just as adamant that Granger go home to visit with and be cared for by his family while he had the time.

Four days later they landed stateside and decided to rent a room for a day or two before setting out for their individual destinations. Having arrived at a time when there was some type of conference in the area, they were lucky to get any accommodations, needless to say just the one room with two double beds.

It was the first time they'd been alone and actually stationary in two days.

Not an hour after they'd both sacked out for the night, Colby woke up from a nightmare of being surrounded by flames, knowing that he was going to die.

Granger hadn't made a sound, despite his fear, however Ian awoke at almost the same exact time, his friend's distress calling out to him and Ian was beside him instantly.

Being a solider meant having nightmares; there should be no shame in it, but some felt it. Whatever comfort was offered should also be accepted with no shame, but, again, some felt it. As Ian talked his friend out of the panic that came with the situation, he used one hand to rub down Colby's back, the other wrapped around his chest, lightly holding him close, rocking him slowly, back and forth.

As sense returned to Colby's blank eyes, Ian didn't attempt to pull away nor did Colby make to move out of the sniper's loose embrace. Raising his head, his face damp with sweat, his body trembling with reaction, Colby leaned into Ian's strong body, resting his head on the other's shoulder, forehead against his friend's neck.

Ian stayed beside the soldier, offering his strength and warmth to the somewhat rattled man; both of them soaking in the warmth and companionship of the other, not daring to think about anything else. However, Colby soon fell back to asleep, body still using his energy reserves to heal, using the sniper almost like a body pillow. While Ian had no problem with the situation, he knew that if anyone walked in on them in this position it would be tantamount to admitting to being gay or bisexual and getting them both dishonorably discharged; however, when Ian tried to disentangle himself from Colby, the blonde's arms tightened around him.

Whispering soothingly to the still obviously anxious man, Ian moved away from Colby's body, quickly secured the chain on the door before putting one of the room's two chairs against it. Gently, he returned to Colby's bed and slid under the covers, Granger immediately wrapping his arms around the sniper and curling around him. Ian smiled, inwardly chuckling, while making himself comfortable.

In sleep, Ian smiled to himself back in Don's guest room. Those three nights and two days spent with Colby, only leaving their room for meals and to get medical supplies when Colby's stash ran out, were a real bright spot in his life. While he'd figured that the solider had depths to him, he had been surprised by him overall. Despite appearances, they each had an unexpectedly tender side, something each of them had rarely, if ever, encountered in someone else and they reveled in it, shamelessly.

* * *

**_Several months later…_**

At six foot one, Ian Edgerton was able to see most of the LA FBI bullpen from his position standing at the end of the hallway that lead to the elevator. It had been almost a year since Ian had last been here and he looked around the office, assessing everyone without a second thought.

Nothing within the office appeared to have changed, although he did notice some new faces. Having infrequently kept in touch with Don, he'd learned, among other things, that Terry had been replaced by another woman named Megan; Charlie had effectively bought their childhood home from Alan, their father, and had gotten himself a girlfriend. Another agent had been introduced to the team as well but they'd had to end their phone call before Don had been able to tell him any more than that.

Noticing Don in the conference room, Ian was just about to make his way over when a tall, muscular blonde haired man stood from his chair, pointing to something on the plasma screen behind Don.

_Granger?_

A few seconds was all it took.

_Colby!_

_Damn!_ He knew Colby had gotten back to the states, having spoken to him while he'd been on leave and was visiting home, but hadn't had time to track him down since. Apparently Colby had gotten a prime spot in LA with Eppes. Putting aside thoughts of how he'd missed seeing him, let alone his name on something somewhere at the academy, at Quantico, he continued to make his way to the conference room.

Trying to hide the smile that was bursting to get out, he stepped inside after a polite knock on the glass door. Taking a moment to shake hands with Don, giving him a small smile, he turned to Colby.

"Granger! How'd they drag your butt in here?" He grabbed the man's hand, smiling fully while pulling him into a one armed hug, slapping him on the back.

Colby was just as surprised to see Ian and returned the gesture. "Ian, man, it's good to see you. Where you been; last time we talked you were still at Quantico?"

"Still am," the sniper answered with a grin.

Ian knew that no one in the room could read him as well as Colby could. And Ian also knew that Colby wanted nothing more than to put aside the professional façade and give him a real hug.

Nodding their heads, completely understanding each other, aware of the other people in and outside the conference room, they separated after exchanging one final look, communicating their need of getting together as soon as they could to catch up and hang out.

As Colby returned to his chair, Ian filled them all in on what had brought him to LA once again.

Word Statistics  
_Pages – 8  
Paragraphs – 104  
__Lines – 399  
__Words – 4709  
__Characters – 21466  
__Characters w/spaces – 26192_

**NaNo – 0  
****NaNo Total – 0  
****Actual story – 4709  
**

_Remember, there is no betaing/editing in this so just go with the flow._


	2. Essence of Colby Day Two NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Two_

Ian's case was surprisingly easy to wrap up and everything was pretty much completed shortly after the end of 'regular' working hours, so Don told everyone to go home. Then, of course, he promptly invited all of them out to one of their favorite hangouts before the team separated for their first weekend off in a few weeks.

Within the hour, not only were the agents, plus Ian, settled at a large table waiting to order but they'd been joined by Alan, Charlie, Amita and Larry.

Except for Alan, most of the group was familiar with Ian, at least with how he worked cases, his professionalism and his cool demeanor. None of them had actually spent any off duty time with him and were surprised at how warm he could be. There was the feeling of long term friendship between he and Colby and it was obvious they were used to interacting with each other.

As the conversation moved through cases either Ian or the team had worked on, Megan asked how Colby and Ian knew each other.

The sniper had been semi-prepared for the question. Although they met while each was in the military and in the Middle East, Ian and Colby hadn't shared any missions or spent much time together within the military structure itself. What they knew of each other was from their times spent as friends, as lovers. While a lot of it was in bed, there was a larger portion of just hanging out. They had kept in touch via email, instant/text messaging as well as long phone calls. There were long weekends during their military time, spent in seclusion as far from soldiers and the Brass as possible and mini-vacations in Idaho that included long hikes, backpacking and horseback riding in the mountains of Idaho.

However, that wasn't anyone's business.

So, before Colby could even take a breath to answer, Ian gave a very 'Ianish" answer. "About three years ago, over in the Mid East."

As everyone waited for him to continue, Colby allowed Ian's comment to stand, giving the impression that it was a war time memory and neither of them wanted to remember it. Instead he voiced his own question, changing the subject. "How did you get involved with the team here?"

Ian inwardly smiled and filled the former soldier in on the case termed 'sniper zero.' Before anyone could steer the conversation back to getting more information about Ian and Colby's meeting, they were on to other things.

Conversation flowed around them, either individually or group involved while food and beverages were consumed. Soon, Megan and Larry were bidding them all good night followed not too long after by Alan saying it was getting late. Charlie and Amita excused themselves as they were Alan's transportation home and then it was only David, Don, Colby and Ian.

As David pardoned himself to use the restroom, Don decided to get one last round of drinks for them.

Alone for the first time, Colby gripped one of Ian's thighs tightly under the table. "Damn, it's good to see you!"

Ian smiled unreservedly and returned the gesture. Both aware that they really couldn't do anything to satisfy themselves of the other's presence, they shared an understanding look and smiled.

Colby's smile faltered however. The blonde really needed contact with the strong, solid and understanding presence beside him and, quickly looking around, Colby leaned forward, grabbing the sniper's shirt front and pulled them together in a bruising crash of lips for just a few seconds before letting Ian go and then drinking the last of the beer in front of him.

Ian's eyes widened with shock, his pupils having dilated slightly with a variety of emotions and, as he saw the other two making their way back to the table, finished his drink as well.

As the conversation continued, Don and David obviously ignorant of what had happened, Ian made stealthy considering glances to his friend. He had noticed a few things during the day that he put down to Colby being relatively new to the agency and guarding himself against doing something that would be frowned upon by the Bureau with regards to himself. However, that kiss had been taking a huge risk. And the … desperation… with which it was done, worried the sniper.

Soon David was bidding them good night as well and Don suggested they leave also, considering the establishment was only filled with the staff cleaning up for the night and themselves.

****

Having paid the bill, the three walked out of the restaurant amidst soft laughter and idle conversation, heading to Don's SUV. While the other two lagged behind, the lead agent was almost to the driver's side door.

Ian grasped Colby's nearest arm as they approached the back of the vehicle. "Colby?"

The man turned his head towards the sniper as they rounded the back of the vehicle, giving him a faint smile as they approached the back passenger door. Before either of them could say anything, another car running parallel to the restaurant, pulled in front of the passenger side.

Colby was almost even with the front passenger door when the first gunshot sounded. His instinctive movement towards the bulky SUV was probably what saved him from being killed instantly with a center mass shot; however, the bullet tore into the right side of his chest, throwing him against the vehicle and then, unconscious, he slid down towards the asphalt.

Ian dove to the ground, having moved to the left, away from the SUV, getting clipped in the left shoulder. Laying flat on the pavement, Ian grabbed his gun, aware of Colby falling into the side of the car and then crumpling towards the ground as he fired at their unknown assailants.

Don had thumbed the doors unlocked and reached in under the driver's seat, pulling out his own weapon while simultaneously grabbing the spare radio he kept inside. Coming around the door to the hood of the vehicle, he began firing at the unknown car while calling for backup and an ambulance.

A moment later, the gunman's vehicle left the scene with a squeal of tires and roar of engine.

Ian reached Colby as Don came around the vehicle, seeing the agent slumped against the bottom of the vehicle, a large circle of red spreading out on the right side of his shirt. As he helped with Colby, Don realized that the sniper had been shot as well just as a couple of the staff members of the restaurant reached them. Using the heavy half apron like material from one, they were able to bandage Colby's wound as best they could.

As Ian and one of the staff kept the pressure on Colby's chest, Don used the apron from the other staff member to create a bandage for Ian's own wound, tying it in place with its ties and Don's own belt while the distinctive sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance

****

The only way Ian was keeping his emotions in check at all was by being one of the people with his hands involved in trying to keep Colby from bleeding out. He didn't have time to think of how the breath had left his body, feeling like he'd been punched in the stomach, when Colby had been slammed against the car by the force of the bullet; how his heart had stuttered as he'd seen Colby slide down the SUV, leaving a trail of blood behind, and ending up slumped against the bottom of the vehicle, unconscious.

Colby was on the ground.

_And he wasn't moving._

Without a thought, Ian had yelled at Don as he'd bolted to his oft times lover.

The sniper was concentrating so hard keeping himself calm as well as maintaining pressure on Colby's wound that he didn't realize the paramedics had arrived. Don and one of them were trying to pull him away and he'd been unconsciously been fighting their hold on him without letting go of Colby.

Once he realized what was happening, he allowed himself to be pulled away and, while one paramedic worked on him, the other started on Colby. The man attending to Ian started an IV and then went to help his partner with Colby, after giving Don a blanket for the dark haired man, who was clearly in shock. As another emergency vehicle pulled up, Ian felt himself losing consciousness, his body starting to collapse towards the pavement and with a shout from Don that sounded like it was coming from a long way off, he fell into darkness.

_Word Statistics_

_Pages – 3  
__Paragraphs – 32  
__Lines – 121  
__Words – 1436  
__Characters – 6684  
__Characters w/spaces – 8121  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1436  
****NaNo Total – 1436  
****Actual story – 6145**


	3. Essence of Colby Day Three NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Three parts one & two_

Until the medics from the other vehicle started looking him over more thoroughly, no one had realized that Ian had taken two bullets. While his shoulder wound was clearly visible, his black leather jacket had flared out and open when he dove to the pavement, where another bullet hit him in the side, so when he'd been attending to Colby, there was no trace of the wound except for a bullet hole in the back of the jacket. Given the dark of night and the blackness of the jacket, it was near invisible.

The two were taken to the nearest hospital, Don in the one transporting Colby, where they were both taken into emergency surgery. Soon, the waiting room began to fill with family and friends, waiting for news of the agents' conditions as well as answers regarding what happened.

"I don't know. We were just about to get into the SUV and, this car pulled up, then there was gunfire. I had cover, grabbed my gun and the radio and started shooting at the gunmen, calling for backup. It was over as fast as it started." Don shook his head.

The team on call had responded to Don's plea for backup and had gotten there just moments before the ambulances had begun their trek to hospital. The agent in charge just gestured for Don to not worry about anything; they'd process the scene and catch up with him later.

"When I came around, Colby was slumped near the ground and Ian was already there, trying to move him into position so he could put pressure on Colby's chest."

Don continued as they waited all for any news from surgery, "Chris and Mike came out and they helped bandage the guys. Mike helped Ian with keeping Colby from… … they did their best to stem the bleeding. And then the first ambulance was there and…."

The agent shook his head, "Ian must have been concentrating on Colby so much that he just lost track of everything around him. We tried to pull him away from Colby so the medics could get to him, but Ian wouldn't move. We'd finally got him away when the other guys got there but… he just collapsed."

He looked up at the group around him. "We didn't know he'd taken a second bullet. One of the doctors told me that it could very well be touch and go 'cause of the blood loss and there was more concern with Colby's chest wound and the one in Ian's side."

Given the lateness of the hour, they each sat slumped in chairs or, in the case of Megan and Larry and Amita and Charlie, cuddled together on the benches, too tired to pace but too keyed up to get any rest. Three hours after they'd arrived, Don was called by Agent Stevenson, the one from the scene, to get details of what happened. Stevenson understood how Don felt and would keep him abreast of the case but right now, with what had been pieced together…

"It's got the marks of a hit."

As the others processed what Don said, a doctor with blood spattered scrubs entered the waiting room.

"You all here for Agent Edgerton?"

Don nodded and then added, "Agent Granger too."

The doctor nodded. "I don't have any info on him but Edgerton came through ok. He's pretty weak at the moment due to the blood loss but, barring complications, he should make a full recovery, given time."

The room's tension level seemed to drop minutely at that, a few breaths released almost explosively.

"He was very lucky with the bullet that went through his side. An inch or two further in, up or down, and we'd be looking at damage to internal organs. As it is, he's got a lot of mending to do and his shoulder is going to require a lot of PT. All in all, I'm optimistic of his recovery."

Everyone thanked him and then sagged back in their seats with partial relief as the doctor went to clean up and then check on his patient before continuing his rounds.

One more to go.

****

The pain started as nothing really, but, as time went by, it grew and wrapped itself around him and soon, he was pulled from unconsciousness, his mind fuzzily grasping at details as to why he felt so badly. Before he could string any thoughts together, there was someone there checking him over. He vaguely registered questions and, he must have answered because they didn't seem to be repeated. Then there was something cold entering his body and his pain eased and with it, Ian fell into healing sleep.

****

About an hour and a half after the doctor had spoken with them, a nurse came into the waiting room and announced that Ian had regained consciousness in the recovery room and was now being transferred to a room in the ICU.

"When can we see him?" Don was the first to ask.

"He's unconscious now, probably will be until mid morning," she responded after looking at her watch, "but he should be set up within the next half an hour. You can see him for just a couple of minutes, one at a time, then."

Megan and David thanked her.

* * *

Don wanted to see Ian as soon as possible but he didn't want anyone seeing him after. Despite his resolve to put the sniper out of his head, Don knew that his emotions regarding the man would come to the forefront after checking up on the agent. When Ian had collapsed in his arms, the only thing that had saved him from making an emotional ass of himself was his training. Don had to keep it together; there were two agents down, emergency personnel on the scene and backup was on the way. His head was involved, logically, in the situation and he was working in 'situation mode.' When he'd gotten to the hospital, he'd barely had time to register more than Ian and Colby being ferried directly into emergency surgery before his team and their friends started showing up. Don had been dealing with them, then the news about it being a possible assassination, then the doctor's prognosis regarding Ian and then, seeming almost moments later, Ian was being transferred to ICU.

As the nurse appeared, letting them all know they could see Agent Edgerton, Don waved the others through while lifting the mobile to his ear as he headed for the hospital's exit.

Once out of range from the waiting room and the people milling towards ICU, he folded up his cellphone and pocketed it. Going through the automatic doors, Don strode around the emergency vehicles parking area and over to the small courtyard on the side. He needed to pull himself together before seeing Ian.

And then there was Colby.

Don had been watching the two throughout the day and he had been getting the idea that Ian and Colby knew each other very well. When he'd deliberately went to the bar that last time, when David excused himself to go to the bathroom, Don had been surreptitiously watching the two agents still at the table.

The dark haired agent had seen Ian smile a smile that Don had never seen before, but before he could envy the blonde for having it bestowed on him, Colby had grabbed Ian's shirt and hauled him over for a desperate kiss. Given Ian's reaction, or lack there of, from where he stood, Don wasn't sure what to expect. However, when there was no reaction and, as both he and David returned to the table, no mention of what happened, Don began to wonder what kind of relationship Ian and Colby had.

He'd noticed as the two dawdled behind him but, before he could register anything beyond the fact that Ian had grasped Colby's arm and the blonde had turned towards him, the shooting had started.

With all that information, Ian's reaction of being so caught up with being near Colby had an entirely different story to it then before.

Don lusted after Ian; he was incredibly attracted to the man. And Edgerton appeared to be in some type of relationship with Colby that was more than just being good friends.

So… now what?

_What do you mean, 'now what?' You're straight, it doesn't matter._ A voice in his head responded.

Shaking his head slightly, back and forth a couple of times, Don couldn't help but think that, if it doesn't matter, then why couldn't he get Ian out of his mind? Why did he spend the majority of the time around the man trying to keep his dick from getting hard – or at least harder than half mast? There had been very few women in his life that could induce the same reaction from him and he was frustrated and upset with it.

And to suspect, to have evidence that Don wasn't the only one affected by the man, that Ian wasn't as straight as Don wanted him to be, wanted him not to be….

Don put his head in his hands with a groan that was strangled in his throat.

Good thing too because that's when he felt a hand on his shoulder, startling him enough to jerk a little.

"Sorry, Don. You ok? I mean, other than having two guys in the hospital, of course." Megan voiced.

Don took a breath and tried to figure out how to respond to that so the profiler wouldn't read more into it than he wanted her to.

His mouth responded with the first thing he thought of.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Just tired and thinking. If this _was_ a hit, who were they after, and why."

****

Megan had not only come out to check up on Don but to let him know that everyone had been in to see Ian. As they were just beginning to walk in to the waiting room, the lead agent saw another doctor in bloodied scrubs coming out of the surgery area. Considering they were the only ones there, Don assumed it was regarding Colby and hurried their pace to reach his co-workers and family before the doctor.

"All of you here for Agent Granger?" At the collective nodding and affirmatives, he gestured for them all to sit down.

Grabbing one of the stools, the doctor placed himself pretty much directly in front of Don but with enough space to look at the others around them.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 4  
__Paragraphs – 45  
__Lines – 154  
__Words – 1751  
__Characters – 7725  
__Characters w/spaces – 9484  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1751  
****NaNo Total – 3187  
****Actual story – 7896  
**


	4. Essence of Colby Day Four NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_ANs: I have no real medical experience so…_

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Four_

The look on the doctor's face wasn't encouraging. "Agent Granger came through the surgery but … I'm sorry, his injuries from the bullet are very extensive." As Don listened to the list of things that had been compromised or damaged by said bullet, he felt ill. Coming back to himself, he was able to catch the last of what the doctor had to say.

"It's going to be touch and go at least for the next 48 hours. If Agent Granger can make it through the next two days, his chances of pulling through will increase significantly. At this point in time, though, I'm unwilling to give any type of chances regarding recovery.

"I'm sorry, that's the best I can do."

As the others thanked the doctor and asked him when they'd be able to visit their friend, Don struggled to contain the thoughts and emotions that were whirling around inside him.

If what he'd thought about regarding Ian and Colby was true…. How did he feel about Colby, beyond that of the boss/employee relationship or beginning to think of the man as a friend? Yes, the former soldier was attractive. He also had a lot of qualities that Don admired. However, his attraction for Ian was much stronger than anything he felt for Agent Granger.

How would Ian react to the news about Colby? What if Colby died? How would Ian react?

Why was he even thinking of all this? Don shook his head slightly, eyes closed, head in his hands as he sat in the waiting room.

Feeling a presence near him, he looked up. Alan was looking at him, concernedly. "You alright, Donnie?"

Don stood up, nodding his head, "Just tired, Dad. Been a long day." His father gave a nod of his own head. "I'm gonna go check on Ian and then see about visitation for Colby."

Starting across the waiting room, heading towards the hall that lead to ICU, Don sighed, trying to put his thoughts and feelings of the whole thing, into some sort of order.

****

FBI Agent, Top Ranked Sniper, Ian Edgerton was a very complicated individual. He was intense, incredibly focused, professional, logical but he was also calm, calculating, able to think outside the box. Don had heard another agent once refer to Edgerton as a cross between Clint Eastwood and Yoda. The lead agent had chuckled internally at the phrase but, after thinking about it, it seemed to suite the man – even though Don though it needed 'Vulcan' somewhere in there also.

Don had really never gotten a look at just plain 'Ian Edgerton' though. Last night, when they were all together, he thought he'd caught some glimpses of the man and it gave Don another thing to try and repress regarding his emotions and thoughts about the sniper.

Ian was always calm and still and quiet and it was no different now when he was unconscious. Being here, in ICU with the agent, things seemed no different than when he was awake. Even now, the man _still_ radiated his intense and focused persona.

Don approached the side of the bed that didn't have all the monitoring equipment and looked at the sniper, assessing him as much as possible with his eyes. He almost reached out to touch, wanting to feel – to assure himself that Ian wasn't cold with death – but refrained from doing so. It was hard enough keeping hold of his control as it was; Don was afraid that if he gave in to touching, just this once, he'd never stop. Or his emotions would come to the fore and he'd embarrass himself with some sort of outburst of concern unbecoming of him.

Putting both hands on the rail of the bed, he allowed his fingers to curl around the metal as he braced himself on it. Don might not want to chance his control so near Ian but, in their own way, each of them was very vulnerable at the moment. Before Don could pull himself away and make his way out of the room; before he could take a breath to shore himself up, his mouth ran away with him.

"Jesus, Ian. When you collapsed against me, you scared the living shit outta me. I thought that was it; I thought that you'd… Well, you didn't. That's a real good thing." Don folded his torso down so that he could rest his forearms against the railing of the bed, his voice lowering even more, "I honestly don't know what I would have done if you'd died. I mean, I've known for a long while that I'm very attracted to you and I've fought against it… really hard…. And I think I've figured out how you and Colby know each other…." He trailed off.

Don let out a huff of breath, forcing himself up off the railings a bit. "Shit. This is so fucking messed up. I like women; no, I love women, and I'm jonesing after a man. A man that is already in some type of relationship with one of my own subordinates – at least if that kiss at the restaurant last night was any indicator.

"And Colby… I have no feelings for him, not like I do for you. I …" Don shook his head slightly. "I don't know what that says about me but…. The doctor talked to us about him before I came to see you. What… what would happen to you if Colby died? I feel guilty but I can't help but think that… if he did… die… … now that I know that you aren't as straight as I thought and you don't appear homophobic, given that kiss… would you give… would you give me a chance?

"And I can't believe I'm saying all this, especially that last. The first time I saw you, I knew that I had to stay away from you as much as possible, that's why I always let Coop take point when ever you were around. And I've fought this… thing… this… attraction… since that first moment." Don inhaled noisily. "I've never even felt what I feel for you with a woman. What does that mean? What does it say about me?"

Don didn't realize that his eyelashes were wet until he felt a single tear of frustration and whirling emotions slid down his cheek. Reaching up, he brushed it away and then, when he closed his eyes, titling his head backwards, his facing pointed to the ceiling, he felt a few more break free and slide down his temples into his hair line.

Looking back down to Ian, Don rubbed at his face, removing the offending moisture. "Damn it, I gotta get outta here." And he turned towards the door.

However, before he could make himself take a step, something made him turn back around to the man in the hospital bed. Having seen no one within direct line of sight, Don bent down over Ian. This close, he could feel the sniper's breath on the bottom of his face. He looked closely at the face of the man who haunted him, taking in all the little things that he'd never been able to before.

Don's control was almost nonexistent at this point and he couldn't fight the impulse that had taken him over. He just didn't have the strength… so he gave in.

Gently, he closed the last few inches to Ian's face and pressed his lips to the other mouth.

God! It was… it wasn't anything like he'd imagined it would be. Ian's lips were soft under his… and warm… and there was a brief 'zing' that went through Don at the contact. Unconsciously he parted his lips and nipped at Ian's bottom lip, touching it, oh so gently, with his tongue before pulling away.

Ian's lips moved minutely and his eyelids fluttered slightly and Don's heart and breath stopped within his body. When the man in the bed didn't do anything more, Don's heart stuttered back to its normal rhythm and he gasped in a breath – his hand over his mouth so as not to give Ian any more cause to wake.

Don made his way out of the room, the ICU and the hospital as fast as he could without looking like the dogs of Hell were after him, using his cell to call for a taxi along the way. He had to get out of there and he didn't care, at least at the moment, what that said of him. Don would check in on Colby later. Much later.

****

As the morning progressed, Ian was visited off and on by the rest of Don's team and family, before they went to their respective homes and then on to work, as well as other agents who had met the man.

Ian's rise up through the depths of unconsciousness was peppered with sensations and barely audible sounds, words and muted smells. He had no idea what was dream or reality, seemingly stuck in the limbo of half formed goo that his mind was trying to wade through. Ian could have sworn at some earlier time, that he heard Don talking with him, that someone had given him a kiss that was so bittersweet that even the thought of it now, when he was closer to waking, made his eyes sting.

The closer he got to actually waking, the more Ian's muddled mind started to clear, making things easier to understand. Like, apparently Don had taken off some time earlier without telling anyone he was leaving, after they'd gotten the news that Colby had made it through surgery.

_Colby!_

He strained to hear anything else but they were either deliberately not saying anything about his friend within his hearing or there wasn't anything to say or hear about him at the moment. At least he was alive.

However as noon approached and Ian was finally able to start trying to open his eyes, having felt his arms and legs were all in relatively working order, an alarm somewhere near started sounding. The sound seemed to set off something inside him, telling him that he needed to wake up, that Colby needed him – much like the silent panic of his friend did, that first night in the hotel after being in the hospital because of the humvee accident.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 3  
__Paragraphs – 33  
__Lines – 132  
__Words – 1724  
__Characters – 7513  
__Characters w/spaces – 9281  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1724  
****NaNo Total – 4911  
****Actual story – 9620  
**


	5. Essence of Colby Day Five NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_ANs: __Also, I have absolutely no frigging clue where this story is going 'cause it's gotten so off track of where *I* wanted it to go that I'm around for the ride as much as all of you!! …. I can only hope we all like the destination! Also, o__nce again, I have no real medical experience so…_

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Five_

There was a nebulous fog around him and no matter how hard he strained to see through or struggle to wade his way out of it, he got nowhere. Colby had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten here, the last thing he remembered was … he kissed Ian. _Desperately_. In a restaurant with his boss too close for comfort – even if he was almost completely across the room.

And then they were heading for Don's SUV, Ian grasped his arm and all Colby wanted to do was grab him and run away, somewhere far away and just… just _be_, just be _with_ him, like one of their mini-vacations… and then there was pain and darkness.

While Colby had been in the FBI for over a year, he was taking direction from two bosses. The stress of being an agent at the same time he was gathering intel on coworkers and people within the FBI, as well as using the Bureau's resources to gather intel on others outside, was something that was getting harder and harder to deal with as time went by. He trusted his coworkers as he had trusted few others, namely his family, Ian and the soldiers beside him when he was in the Middle East, and considered them close friends. The whole thing was eating at him, not being able to talk with them about his undercover assignment from the Defense Intelligence Agency.

And while Colby had known that this would be a difficult, long-term, arduous undertaking, he had been sure it was something he could do. He'd been in the right place at the right time… or the wrong place at the wrong time, depending on your point of view… and he was someone who came from a long line of duty, honor and following orders. Colby understood that; he respected where he came from and the sacrifices that his relatives had made in order to get the job done, to protect their country, no matter the cost.

He also knew that there was a good chance of him being killed doing what he was, trying to find compromised agents and other government personnel who weren't working for the good of the United States at the same time as helping his FBI team fight crime. Colby also realized that, even if he didn't die, when the undercover assignment was finished, his friendships with his coworkers would be… well, they'd be a mess – chances were, the team wouldn't be able to come to terms with his dual identity of both agent and spy.

And how would his family… how would Ian… deal with it? No one knew about his assignment except for a few top brass and administrators and his supervisor at DIA. If things went to hell, there wasn't anyone that was going to be around to pull his ass out of the proverbial fire. The aftermath of this would be something given some spin on it from the intelligence community, possibly, given what he'd found out so far, maybe even the Oval Office.

His family would be devastated as well as dishonored.

And Ian would have no idea why Colby had veered away from all that honor and respect and duty that he, Colby, claimed to have lived by. Why he'd thrown all that away to die as a traitor.

The blonde shook his head, now sitting within the fog that surrounded him. Holding in a broken breath that could have been the beginnings of a sob, he put his head in his hands. _What a damn fucking fucked up mess._

Colby had grown very close to his coworkers. He considered David to be one of his best friends; he knew Megan loved to flirt with him and, if she wasn't with Larry, would be interested in getting together with him. However, while he was flattered by it, he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to start anything with her, even a 'friends with benefits' type arrangement if he were the type to do such a relationship, with everything the way it was right now.

Especially with Ian in the picture. Or, especially with how _he_ felt _about_ Ian. He wouldn't betray that, no matter what or who else he had to abandon or how much or how many others he had to let down, Colby would never be unfaithful to Ian.

He mentally shook his head, his thoughts whirling around in his mind.

_Ian._ God, he had no idea how to…. They hadn't made any promises to each other but not because Colby hadn't wanted to. And he didn't think Ian hadn't wanted to either. It just happened that they didn't. They had been military after all; they had had no idea where they were going to be a month from whenever, they had had no idea if they were even going to be alive a month down the road. And now they had both moved into relatively dangerous government positions.

Hell, despite them wanting to stay in touch with each other, it had been about a year since they'd spoken last.

Just before he'd been given this damn assignment.

Colby struggled to contain a sob.

He had deliberately stayed out of touch with his oft times lover, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hide anything from the man. Ian was a trained sniper – he was trained in observation techniques, recon, infiltration; he'd pull Colby apart once he knew that Colby wasn't being straight with him.

Damn it! The one time since he was a young adult that he'd actually become completely head over heels in love with someone and it had to be an FBI sniper, who also taught at Quantico; a solider who completely accepted his sexuality and Colby himself.

Ian… Ian would have understood his mission wouldn't he have? At least that he wouldn't have been able to talk about it because of the 'it's classified' label. Ian would probably have even agreed with it; might even have signed up for it himself.

But… how far would Ian have gone to get it done? Would he have seen what Colby hadn't until it was too late? Would he have backed out before now? … Would he have risked being labeled a traitor, for real, for not completing the mission?

Colby shook his head, there were just too many questions, not enough answers and, no matter how much he thought Ian would understand and probably agree with what needed to be done, what had been done… what still needed to be done, Colby couldn't read the man's mind. He couldn't get real understanding, real forgiveness, unless Ian knew everything about it.

And Colby couldn't tell him!

_Damnit!_ Colby made fists of both hands and pressed his nails down into his palms as hard as he could, but it wasn't enough. Looking around, finding nothing but the fog, the former soldier repeatedly pounded both fists into his thighs until he was passed the point of pain, until both his legs and hands were numb.

And it still hadn't taken the edge off of his frustration, his despair… of all the emotions and thoughts going through his head.

Colby forced his mind back to the FBI.

The former soldier marveled at Professor Charlie Eppes' mind. He truly enjoyed watching and hearing the man and his friends, Amita and Larry, come up with ingenious ways of bringing the investigations to a close. They were geniuses. Sure, they weren't out there on the streets with them, taking down the criminals and spending hours pounding the pavement, doing grunt work or in full SWAT gear dodging bullets, but they were there, in the war room, mentally battling against the criminals right alongside them.

_War_… and his mind once again brought the sniper to mind.

He was… damn… Ian was delicious in anyone's book. His sculpted body, mind as sharp as a hunting knife, definitely easy on the eyes, great sense of humor, loved the outdoors but was comfortable being inside, he had nothing to prove to anyone… he was a man with no problem showing his lighter or tender side with the right person and he was comfortable in his own skin.

Colby groaned, a memory shooting through him like electricity through a live wire….

Ian in the throes of passion, Colby thrusting deeply inside of him, one hand buried in that gorgeous thick, but short, black hair; his other hand jerking Ian's shaft to the rhythm of his pounding; the sniper's pupils blown wide with lust and desire, uttering Colby's name between breathes…

Gasping his name… _Colby_.

Moaning his name… _Oh God, Colby_.

Whimpering his name… _Please, Colby!_

Over and over again until Ian exploded in his hand, his tight channel squeezing down on Colby's cock buried balls deep inside him.

The memories were so vivid that, had Colby not been so depressed, so utterly despairing of the situation, Colby would be jerking off to them.

And then there was pain!

Colby felt like his chest was on fire and he couldn't breathe! The fog that had been all around him seemed to be growing thicker, almost becoming a physical presence with enough substance to be real, to smother him.

He could just barely register tense voices talking, demanding things from him, from the people around him, giving orders.

… Colby began seeing gray around the edges of his vision…

… The voices grew louder, harsher, but they had lost their clearness, they were growing too fuzzy for Colby to even guess at what they wanted.

… Things were growing dim…

Suddenly, Ian's face was right there, not more than a couple of inches away from his and Colby tried to smile. There was so much to say, so much that needed explained. But, truly, the only thing that mattered was that Colby told Ian how much he meant to him.

He saw Ian say his name, calling it out tentatively, cautiously.

Struggling for any air left in his lungs to tell Ian how much he loved him, finding none, he tried to raise a hand to touch one of Ian's cheeks, to caress his face, run his fingers through the man's hair...

Ian bent down, sealing his mouth over Colby's, trying to blow air into his lungs, to help him breath. But it wasn't working; something was seriously wrong and Ian released his mouth and shouted his name.

Colby didn't, couldn't, answer; he saw Ian shout his name again, his face intense and blank of real emotion, but Ian's eyes were full of fear, bright with unshed tears.

A mouth came down on his again going from trying to blow air into his lungs again to a kiss that demanded he didn't give up, that begged for him not to die.

Colby's eyes closed.

* * *

Ian had fallen asleep, his fight against unconsciousness having worn him out. As soon as he sunk back into the warm darkness and comfort of healing sleep though, he was been pulled into a place that he had no conception of. Turning around, he strained to see anything besides the gray mist. It was a heavy fog, something like you'd see in San Francisco or read about in old mystery novels with regards to the mist covering London, where Jack the Ripper hid his murders within.

Slowly, Ian's eyes acclimated to the environment and he found, if he were still and patient enough, the fog would thin and he could see through the mist as it drifted by. The longer he was quiet, the thinner it got until all but wisps floated by – spun sugar in a breeze, a breeze that didn't exist. He had been catching glimpses of a man stuck in what seemed to be the eye of the mist but when Ian tried to get closer the fog would thicken, gathering enough substance to it that it actually acted like a wall, keeping him from moving forward.

Settling himself in to wait, Ian was soon rewarded with a clear view of the man. Ian could feel the depression and despair radiating off the man and it tore at his heart; not understanding how or why he felt such depths for the man, Ian continued to be still… be calm.

When the man turned around enough for Ian to see his face, the sniper felt his heart stutter, his breath stop in his lungs.

_Colby!_

How could this be Colby? He watched his lover sit on the ground, battling with emotions that he'd never seen Colby having to deal with before. Watched as the man beat his fists against his own legs and bow his head in despair.

Colby was… he was never… Ian had never seen such utter desolation in regards to his friend, his lover.

Again, Ian tried to get closer and the fog prevented it. He watched as Colby figuratively tore himself apart with whatever he was feeling, whatever thoughts were going through his head. And then he saw him fall to the ground, almost seizure like in his movements, obviously suffering.

Throwing himself over and over against the fog, he beat at it in a frenzy, inarticulate shouts coming from his throat as Ian fought to reach Colby's side.

His persistence paid off and, after what seemed like hours, Ian got through the fog and was on his knees his face hovering over Colby's.

Colby tried to smile; he looked like he was trying to say something. Ian said his name, gently trying to get his lover to focus on him but Colby was struggling to stay conscious, to breathe it appeared.

Ian bent down over the struggling form of his lover, sealing his mouth over Colby's, trying to aid him in his battle to breath. Something was seriously wrong though, the air wasn't getting to Colby's lungs!

After trying again and then once more, Ian released his mouth and shouted Colby's name.

Colby was dying and there wasn't anything he could do!

Ian shout his name again, his fear of the situation growing with every second that Colby couldn't breathe. Struggling to contain the tears that were building behind his eyes, he leaned over his lover once more, trying to blow air into his lungs again. When he met the same resistance, something broke inside him; Colby wasn't going to make it.

His heart stuttering, his breathing harsh, his mouth changed from trying to blow air into Colby's lungs to a kiss. A kiss that demanded he didn't give up, that begged for him not to die.

Colby's eyes closed, his body going still.

Ian felt his lover, his friend, his Colby, go still.

Pulling his mouth away from Colby's still lips, he looked for any sign, any at all, that Colby wasn't gone.

Ian shook his head, with each shake, it became more intense until he stopped, letting go of the hold he had on the cooling body of his lover, putting his hands on the ground. Looking skyward, Ian screamed out the only thing he could articulate at the moment.

"**NO!"**

****

He must have screamed it in his head because when Ian opened his eyes, there wasn't anyone around. However, given that his heart monitor was going crazy and he was probably very close to giving himself a heart attack—.

Two nurses and a doctor came running into his room. As one nurse checked vitals, the other nurse was getting a hypodermic needle ready while the doctor tried to give him a brief exam.

The only thing he could concentrate on – his whole world – was Colby.

Ian had never been in such a state before and he was sure that he would only be treated as a raving maniac if he couldn't calm down. But the calm and quiet and stillness that he lived by was gone. The only thing that mattered right now was Colby.

"Colby!" It came out as a husky whisper that no one paid any attention to.

****

_In a cubicle not too far away, a team of the ICU's finest were working on Agent Colby Granger. He'd gone into respiratory arrest when his heart failed and they were doing all they could to safe his life._

****

"Colby!" He shouted as loud as he could and the three looked at him but didn't stop what they were doing; the nurse with the hypo especially.

****

_They were setting up the deliberator, putting gel on the paddles; adrenaline had already been shot directly into the man's heart and there had been no response._

****

As she put it into the IV line that was connected to one of Ian's hands, he tried to move his other to jerk the apparatus from his hand, swatting at the nurses and doctor as they tried to interfere.

"**COLBY!!!**" Ian finally got a semblance of his normal voice, along with the volume one would use on the Army parade grounds.

****

_A couple of blips on the heart monitor. Had they brought him back?_

****

As he continued to tussle with the medical personnel, Megan quickly came into the room from having been standing between Ian's and Colby's room, watching the drama unfold as the team worked on the blonde. Coming up to the foot of the bed, she tried to help calm the combative sniper.

****

_No, the heart monitor was still reading as flatlined and the team continued their efforts to resuscitate the FBI agent._

****

"Ian!" When that failed to get his attention, she shouted at him.

His eyes fastened on the profiler of Eppes' team and questioned, "Colby?"

As the sedative began to kick in, Ian's movements began slowing down, but he wouldn't let them subdue him until he … until he… uh…

"Colby! Colby?" His voice had lost the volume it had prior and things were getting fuzzy around the edges of his vision.

****

_The monitor, continuing to read as a flatline, told the story and the doctor took a step away from the hospital bed while taking a frustrated breath before moving to grasp one of the man's wrists, checking for a pulse. Not finding anything, he checked with his stethoscope._

****

The nurses began putting restraints on his wrists and ankles the doctor placing a belt around his middle, making sure it didn't interfere with the bullet wound in his side.

****

_Shaking his head, he gave a signal to the closest nurse and she turned the heart monitor off while others moved around the cubicle shutting down other machines._

****

Megan heard, or somehow figured out what was happening in Colby's cubicle, her eyes growing overly bright. "I'm sorry," Megan said, "but everything's going to be alright, Ian."

****

_As the doctor called the time of death for Agent Colby Granger in the other cubicle not too far away,_ Ian gave a final lunge and, with a heart wrenching cry, he fell back into darkness.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 6  
__Paragraphs – 91  
__Lines – 312  
__Words – 3146  
__Characters – 14077  
__Characters w/spaces – 17215  
_**NaNo Day Total – 2434  
****NaNo Total – 7254  
****Actual story – 12766  
**


	6. Essence of Colby Day Six NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Six_

Megan sagged against the end of the sniper's bed, watching the nurses finish restraining a now sedated Ian. She knew why they were doing it but the profiler couldn't totally agree with the idea of tying someone, especially Agent/Sniper Edgerton, down.

The doctor saw her expression, "It's for his own safety; he's already ripped out several of his stitches. I'll have to examine him to see if we need to take him back into surgery."

The woman nodded with understanding but continued to gaze at the man. The doctor sighed and then went back to his patient, pulling the hospital gown aside and grimacing at the damage Ian had done to himself before the sedative had taken affect.

As Megan watched, the doctor cleaned up the wound as best and gently as he could, palpitating the area and then called for equipment and materials. Apparently he was satisfied, for the moment, that none of the internal work the surgical team had done was damaged and began re-stitching the areas that Ian had ruined with his fighting them.

Sighing, Megan took one last look at Ian, rubbing one of his legs before turning around and walking out of the cubicle, heading over to Colby's.

Apparently while she was involved with Ian, the staff had already moved Colby's body out of the ICU… She couldn't bear to think of her friend being transported to the morgue, where a cold drawer, among other things, awaited him. Megan put a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes momentarily, leaning on the jamb of the cubicle. Pulling herself together and wiping the tears that had fallen down her face and then her eyes where some still lingered, she turned around and walked out of the ICU ward, back towards the waiting room.

When she arrived, only Alan and Larry were left. Seeing her face, they knew something bad had happened – they'd heard the Code Blue alarm – but how bad, they had no idea.

Larry immediately pulled Megan into a hug, letting her compose herself and fill them in on whatever had occurred in the ICU. Moving them slowly over to one of the benches, Larry urged her to sit down, still holding her and Alan moved a chair closer to them, hoping his presence could offer some comfort and support as well.

Megan sat up, wiping her face and nose on the tissues that Alan had gotten for her and then she pulled her cell phone from the hip holster she utilized. Calling the office, she tried getting hold of Don but ended up talking with David. As she told him what happened, Larry and Alan bowed their heads, Larry tightening the grip he'd relaxed around her waist while Alan put a hand on each of them, gathering them into a small circle.

Back at the office, David had answered Megan's call while walking around the bullpen but when Megan had told him that Colby had gone into respiratory arrest and his heart stopped, he took the closest seat to him, putting one hand up to his face, covering his eyes. The people in the cubicle David happened to have commandeered went silent.

As Megan told him that Colby had died, the agents saw a few tears make their way down David's face.

And the silence in the office spread.

* * *

Ian found himself in the wilderness of Idaho. He and Colby had spent enough time there that the tracker within the sniper knew it couldn't be anywhere else. Looking around, he realized that it was where they'd spent their last mini-vacation. It was about fourteen months ago and it had been great. Ian had been teaching at Quantico for some time and Colby had just been discharged from service over in the Mid East, being home with family for all of a week, before Ian had arrived for some much needed down time.

They had promised each other that neither of them would talk about work or military or anything to do with anything that didn't revolve around camping, horseback riding and hiking. And they hadn't.

Days were spent riding, hiking, fishing and just admiring the sheer beauty of being outdoors, spending time together without having to worry about anyone or anything interrupting them. And the nights….

Ian remembered the first time they'd had sex, back in that hotel after they'd landed stateside, the morning after Colby's nightmare. His friend had been almost shy when they'd first undressed; Ian had been hard pressed to keep his astonishment to himself when Colby had told him that he had only been intimate with three other people in his life. Colby, for all intents and purposes, had still been a virgin.

Over the years of their friendship, any time they could get together, they had and Ian had never had a lover so responsive to him before. Riding that body into orgasm, having Colby hot and hard and thrusting into him, sucking that hard shaft and feeling his lover shudder and whimper, being sucked off with that gorgeous mouth… they were all memories that Ian treasured. Taking them out during the dark times Ian experienced in his life or when he was feeling excessively alone kept him going.

And each time they got together… he couldn't help but _fall for the man all over again_. Ian remembered that he'd frowned at himself when he'd first figured that out.

Ian also remembered that he'd taken a deep breath, wondering how it had _snuck up on him._

He'd been worried about what it meant, about how it would affect or change their relationship. Ian didn't want anything to change, even if it was for the better. Things were perfect the way they were right then. If he told Colby he had fallen in love with the man, and Colby didn't feel the same way… he'd lose everything.

Ian knew, logically, that he needed to talk with his lover about it but he couldn't get the thought out of his head that _what if Colby didn't feel the same way?_

While Colby had had a large and loving family who seemed to have supported him in anything and everything, teaching him how to be a good person, how to be honorable and that duty and responsibility were something to be proud of and how to be a gentleman and a gentle man….

Ian had had his Grandfather, whom he had loved dearly and what was left of their tribe, on a Reservation. The conditions they'd lived in were squalid and sickening; what alcoholism didn't kill off was disease-ravaged or had been tainted with radioactive chemicals that were left over from earlier bomb testing. Living with cancer or radiation sickness or any other 'God forsaken' thing was a way of life.

He remembered the White Folks coming in and preaching how God's work was moving within and around them, and all they had to do was give their life to Him, pray for His mercy and His forgiveness for all their sins and things would get better.

It was never the same white folks coming around though, but young Ian had figured that had more to do with his Grandfather than anything else.

His father died of alcoholism, his mother from suicide. When his Grandfather finally succumbed to the effects of the radiation or Cancer, pretty much the same thing in his young mind, Ian was bounced around from person to person of the people who were still left on the Reservation for a couple of years. At sixteen, he figured he was old enough to strike out on his own and ran off to join the military.

It was an escape in a way; salvation in another. And atonement perhaps, in some complicated aspect.

No one questioned the validity of the youngster saying he was eighteen; Ian had always looked older than his actual years, a byproduct of living on the Reservation, seeing so much hardship and death probably, and he did well, after he'd gotten settled in, of course

Ian had had a bit of a problem with authority and authority figures, but he learned quickly that he had to keep a lid on it or things wouldn't go well for him, in many respects. In fact, one reason Ian learned it so quickly was that after a particularly… intense… discussion with a commanding officer, the young man had found himself bent over a table, hands and feet restrained, his pants and underwear down around his ankles and someone hitting his ass with something hard. It had lasted long enough to leave bruises that lasted for almost a month.

Another lesson that was learned quickly was that men did not appreciate being looked at – as in lingering gazes on any part of their anatomy, whether naked or covered – by another man. While Ian was attracted to women, he'd still been a virgin when he joined the Army. Because of his curiosity, Ian had been labeled as 'gay" and a few men from a different unit had taken it upon themselves to cure him of his inquisitiveness.

When Ian had returned to his bunk following the attack, two of his unit took it upon themselves to treat his wounds, clean him up and take him under their proverbial wings. Ian learned a lot about hand-to-hand combat, dirty street fighting and knife fighting; lessons taught on off hours and during furlough/leave.

Although Ian didn't particularly care for the white man's 'God,' he did rather like the 'eye for an eye' phrase. Especially when it came to repaying those who had decided he needed curing.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 3 / 3  
__Paragraphs – 31 / 32  
__Lines – 114 / 123  
__Words – 1456 / 1606  
__Characters – 6345 / 7027  
__Characters w/spaces – 7733 / 8568  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1456  
****NaNo Total – 8801  
****Actual story – 14372  
**

_Double numbers are due to some rewritten content._**  
**

**There is no Day Seven or Day Eight – Next chapter will be listed as Day Nine.**


	7. Essence of Colby Day Nine NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_ANs: As mentioned at the end of Day Six, there is no Day Seven or Day Eight – the next chapter will be listed as Day Nine – this one._

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Nine_

Given Ian's first experience with, not only the act of sex itself, but 'gay' sex, he was incredibly shocked that it hadn't seemed to give him any sort of traumatic/psychotic stigmatism towards sex altogether. While his two brothers-in-arms helped him deal with the attack and then proceeded to show him how to beat the crap out of just about anything, they were both completely straight. However, each knew of someone or knew someone who knew someone else, who weren't.

They figured Ian needed to talk about what happened and, considering it was something that no one would ever report, let alone see the military shrink for, who better than other men who'd been sodomized, in the sense of violence, as well as those who participated in actual gay sex.

Through the grapevine of his friends, Ian found out about a group of men who met on a semi-regular basis to talk about 'experiences' that they'd had. While he was in the minority of men who weren't gay, or weren't sure if they were or not, the others were. Ian's world expanded greatly during his time in group and the friendships he made there were some of the best he had ever had. When they'd found out how young Ian actually was and what type of environment he'd grown up in, they had all gone to great lengths to help him readjust his world view and to mentor him in several aspects of life.

Over time Ian was able to work beyond what had happened to him and, as his time in the military progressed, Ian made it his personal mission to help any new recruits that had been as innocent and naive as Ian assumed he'd been.

It was during this time that he met Eric Sanderson.

When Ian compared how or what he'd felt for or with Eric to Colby, Eric didn't even register. But way back then, Ian had been sure that what he had with Eric was … well, he'd still been 'innocent and naïve' enough to believe in, somewhere deep down within, where the desperation of life on the Reservation hadn't totally rooted out some things completely, 'forever' and 'destiny' and all those clichéd terms that were bandied about _by women_, not men.

Almost eight months later, Ian finally got up the courage to tell Eric that he loved him, that he'd fallen in love with the man. Eric hadn't taken the news well and Ian couldn't understand his reaction.

How could they engage in all that sex and touching and… if Eric hadn't loved him?

Whenever they were around the other and they could get away with it, they were doing something sexual. Eric loved having Ian's mouth wrapped around his cock; he loved holding onto Ian's head and fucking it like he couldn't get enough of the young man. Eric was obsessed with Ian's backside and putting his cock up Ian's ass always made him lose himself, he went wild! Holding Ian close, biting him, squeezing him, pounding into him, Eric got so lost in his lover that he wouldn't even be able to take care of Ian until after he'd gotten off.

After Ian confessed his feelings, Eric sadly told him that he didn't feel the same towards Ian. They were just two men looking for release; it was needed when their frustration with not having a woman around got to be too much. For comfort, when things weren't going well and they needed to know that they weren't alone.

They were fuck buddies, nothing more, nothing less. And Eric was terribly sorry that Ian had taken it or seen it as being so much more.

After being exceptionally moody for two days, Ian had then grabbed one of his friends, Paul, and talked him into heading out to a bar while on weekend leave. The other didn't really suspect anything until Ian demanded drink after drink after drink. Before Paul knew it, Ian was as drunk as he'd seen anyone.

Wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, he tried to guide Ian out of the bar and to a nearby hotel where Ian could sleep it off before heading back to base but the younger man demanded to be left alone to drink.

Edgerton had done a lot of growing, a lot of changing, in the two years he'd been in the military. While he'd always been stubborn and intense, those qualities had been honed and fostered by the Army, and, if they continued to evolve, along with some of Ian's other natural abilities, it was a given that he'd be transferred into special operations or some type of specialized training. However, right now, they weren't something Paul wanted to deal with.

It was obvious that something was bothering the younger man; enough so that Ian had used their friendship to get drunk—Ian had just turned 18 and, while he could die for his country, the young man wasn't old enough to vote and he couldn't buy a gun or alcohol.

Paul had to get them out of the bar, and quietly so they didn't get written up for improper behavior, and get them somewhere they could talk – without the brass or anyone else overhearing. However, when Ian took a swing at him, something that Paul easily avoided because of the other's lack of coordination, he'd had enough.

Paul belted Ian in the stomach, toppling his drunken friend to the floor.

Manhandling the drunken man out of the bar, Paul got them across the way where he rented a room. An hour later, Ian was stripped to his boxers and sleeping off the alcohol and, hopefully, whatever had fucked his head up.

After Paul called the base to let a bunkmate know where he and Edgerton were, and asking if they minded passing the info on, he looked over to find Ian, still laying down, gazing at him through slitted eyes that were glazed from the alcohol.

"Unless you can talk sense, I don't wanna hear a word outta your mouth until you've gotten over whatever's messed you up." Paul's southwest accent was pronounced with his anger at his friend as well as his own consumption of alcohol.

Ian had simply looked at him, said something that sounded roughly like 'sorry,' before rolling over and passing out again.

Paul shook his head and then, deciding he needed to do the same, rolled over and fell asleep.

* * *

It had taken Paul, some other friends and several of the guys from group, to undo the damage that Eric had unknowingly done to Ian's fragile, almost non-existent understanding of the differences between love and sex. Even with that, it took Ian a good two years to open himself up to any type of intimate relationship again.

In that time, he'd been transferred to specialize in becoming a sniper. While he had been relocated to a new base, Ian had made it a priority to keep in touch with everyone who'd helped him in the beginning of his military career, some more than others of course. He also heard that Eric had been shot to death by an overzealous boyfriend, who had then committed suicide.

The news hit Ian harder than he thought it should and he found himself heading to a bar. After two drinks, Ian found a phone booth and called Paul.

Chances are that, if it hadn't been for people like Paul, he would have followed the same path his alcoholic father had journeyed down. As it was, Ian had spent several years learning how much alcohol he could tolerate with the resulting hangover when he miscalculated.

While Ian better understood how relationships worked now and he knew that Colby was nothing like Eric; that Colby cared for him a lot, Ian had reverted to uncertainty and insecure behavior when faced with the prospect of the man pulling an Eric on him. It was very frustrating and, if Ian was honest with himself, upsetting as well; this was something he thought he'd grown out of, a long time ago..

However, the present slammed in on Ian with the thought that, now that Colby was de—was gone, he would never get the chance to actually tell him those words.

Taking a huge breath, Ian sat down on the ground, his back up against a fallen tree that he recognized as the one he and Colby had used for a backrest at the campfire on that last night. Ian had no idea why he was here but, when he really thought about it, he didn't care. This place was familiar, comfortable, beautiful and had nothing but great memories of Colby; Ian's last time with him, his lover, his friend.

Ian's mind began to run through all his memories of his lover, carefully opening up each one, gently holding and looking at each and every emotion and nuance. Yet there was a desperate quality to it as well.

Colby was dead.

Colby… was dead.

Ian was over three quarters Native American and his family line had many 'medicine people' within it. After his people had been systematically rounded up and removed from their ancestral homes, as with many Native American nations, they had begun losing their way of life. By the time Ian was born, most of the knowledge that his forefathers had known was lost or corrupted to the point it was useless.

However, there were gifts that accompanied the blood of the medicine people line and Ian had inherited those completely. It was a majority of those 'gifts' that the Army unknowingly honed and focused within him and that made him so good at his job. Ian had a gift for tracking and the ability to be near silent when he chose to. But, above all, were his instincts.

The gifts had appeared early enough that his Grandfather was able to teach him many of the fundamentals before he passed away, however Ian had had to do a lot of independent study and learned many things by trial and error. Many a lesson had been learned with regards to following his instincts after several times of ignoring them. After realizing the difference between them and what was coming from the outside, even if it was his own head, Ian's confidence in himself and his abilities grew tremendously. However, strong emotions had a tendency to confuse him in interpreting what his gifts were telling him.

Thus had the mess with Eric happened.

Because of Ian's desire and the myriad of emotions revolving around the relationship, Ian hadn't listened to what was really happening – that Eric wasn't the one for him. However, when he'd met Colby, Ian had been much older and had learned many valuable lessons, one of which was that patience would reward him in many things. And love would be one of them; he just had to… be patient.

After Ian had seen Colby Granger that first time, even though he was on missions, the sniper had known that he'd meet the soldier again; it was what some would call fate or destiny. But Ian didn't utilize those words or their definitions really – Ian's gifts and his knowledge had nothing to do with them. However, while Ian had no idea what the soldier would come to mean to him or his life, he understood that it would be best to get to know Granger better instead of simply ignoring whatever was to come.

And he'd done so.

And now, almost four years later, it was over. What had been the point of getting to know him if only to lose him? Why risk one's heart for such a short and ultimately painful thing?

Without realizing it, Ian had been staring at the space across from him – where the campfire had been that last night with Colby – and his Grandfather was peacefully sitting there, waiting for Ian to come back from where ever his thoughts had taken him.

Ian blinked. He'd had visions of his Grandfather before, only a handful however, and only when he had some very difficult decision that had to be made.

"Grandfather." Ian bowed his head in respect.

"Little Bear. While there are things that you need to concern yourself with, those of Flying Fox need not burden you." His Grandfather used the shortened version of the childhood name that the old man had gifted him with as well as the one he'd given Colby.

Ian's full name was 'Little Bear with Cougar Spirit.' And when his Grandfather had visited him while Ian had been trying to make the decision of whether to tell Colby about his feelings, the old spirit had named his lover 'The Fox that Soars with Eagles,' or 'Flying Fox.'

All those years ago, when Ian had asked why, Grandfather had simply said that that is what he was known as to those who mattered. When Ian had gotten to be an adult, he'd thought more on the subject after his first vision of his Grandfather. Ian hadn't come up with a satisfactory answer and, trusting his Grandfather, he had simply accepted it.

When Grandfather had gifted Ian's hearing with the name his lover was known by, he accepted that as well, with a bow of his head and thanks.

Many people questioned things but Ian had learned that there were many questions that no one would ever know the answers to and that… you shouldn't pursue them. Not because anything would happen if you did necessarily, but that some things were meant to be known by things other than the humans wondering about them. There were things out there that would not be solved with science. There were also things out there that would not be solved by 'religion' either.

Shaking his head, Ian attempted to corral his thoughts and listen to his mentor.

"Grandfather… I feel… lost. I don't understand. I know that everything has its time and place but… our time was so short." Ian spoke emotionally. In the visions, he had found that it was impossible to hide in one's self. What you were, what you are, what and how you feel, everything is exposed.

"And what I have told you, son of my heart, is true. There are many things that you need to concern yourself with, to attend to, but Colby is not one of them.

"Do not despair; your time is not yet done… Have courage and do what is set before you for, what you see, Little Bear, is not what it all appears to be."

And then, like always, the spirit of his Grandfather faded away to leave him contemplating what had been given to him.

* * *

The sedative finally wore off enough that Ian was able to wake a handful of hours after Colby was declared dead. They must have been keeping a sharp eye on him because just a moment later, a nurse arrived to ask him a few questions and to check his vitals. Not more than ten minutes after she left, the doctor that had ordered the restraints for Ian was standing at the side of his bed.

Said doctor had gotten a copy of Edgerton's file and, based on their not being any history of psychosis or such, as well as finding the patient to be lucid and relatively calm and quiet, they discussed removing the restraints. After the doctor finished examining him and left the room, Ian lay in the hospital bed mentally packing away the emotions and memories that revolved around Colby Granger until a pair of nurses came in to detach the straps that held him in place.

Just as he was finishing dinner in the private room they had moved him to some time during his sedation, there was a knock on the door followed immediately by someone poking their head in.

"Hey there."

"Megan. Come in."

"I hear you're feeling better."

Ian briefly closed his eyes before looking back to his visitor who now stood at his bed side. Before he could open his mouth however, Megan was already talking.

"I've… uh… I'm guessing that Colby was much more than just a friend."

Ian took a breath before nodding his head once.

After his admission, Megan moved a hand to his upper arm, giving it a little squeeze.

Taking a deep breath, Megan continued with the news that she had hoped to give the sniper before Ian got it from the television or some unsuspecting civilian or medical personnel.

"I… there's going to be a piece in tonight's news cast about Colby. We just got the info and… I thought… I thought you should hear it from a friend before anywhere or anyone else; especially the media."

Ian felt a cold shiver of apprehension run down his spine. The way Megan said that led him to believe that whatever he was going to hear wasn't going to be good.

His expression must have shown how his thoughts were running because the female agent took one more breath and then, after swallowing, gave him the news.

Ian was silent throughout and continued to be so for a time after she'd finished.

"Has anyone contacted Colby's family yet?"

Megan nodded once, "I called them earlier about… to inform them… to let them know about Colby and David said that he'd talk to them about this."

Ian nodded his understanding, having, at some point during Megan's filling him in, grasped one of her hands, returning the squeeze of comfort that she had bestowed upon him earlier.

It was Ian's turn to take a breath and then he was turning the television on. He had to know how the news services were going to report the story and what type of damage Colby's family was going to suffer because of it. What type of support and comfort he could, would, be able to give them.

****

_FBI Special Agent Colby Jonathan Granger, the victim of an attempted assassination late last night, died earlier today of complications from the bullet wound to his chest. The perpetrators of the drive-by style shooting are being sought after but there is limited information to help the FBI and other authorities with the case. Two other agents were involved in the off-duty incident – one is currently in the hospital being treated for multiple gunshot wounds and the other, having escaped being wounded, is assisting with the investigation._

_Before Granger started working with the Bureau, he was with the Army. He did a tour with the Criminal Investigation Division in Afghanistan – where he was trained in interrogation techniques – as well as involved in a variety of other missions in the area. One such mission ended when an RPG hit the humvee Granger was driving. Although he and another soldier were admitted to the nearest military hospital with a burn unit, the injuries were not life threatening as they were able to escape the vehicle before it exploded._

_However, some government officials have come forward to tell us that the decorated former soldier turned FBI agent wasn't all he seemed._

_Michael Kirkland, Section Three Director from the Defense Intelligence Agency, has insinuated that Colby Jonathan Granger was actually a double agent and was spying for the Chinese. From what Section Three's staff can put together, Granger – who comes from a family with a long history of being in the military – probably started as a spy shortly after the incident with the humvee. Most likely, Granger was approached by a fellow soldier, who has yet to be identified, and began his career as an intelligence operative with small things, like copying training manuals, passing files, giving pass codes to various databases._

_The investigation regarding the charges of treason against Granger is fairly new but it's thought that the man was killed by those he was providing information to after somehow blowing his cover as an operative._

_There has been no comment from the Army or the FBI as to how compromised they may be, given Granger's positions in both. Also, Granger's family has yet to be contacted._

****

Megan left the sniper's room soon after the broadcast and Ian spent a few hours going through all the information that he had of Colby. The man doesn't believe what he's just heard about his deceased lover. Granted, he hadn't seen Colby for fourteen months, but they had kept in touch throughout the years and Ian found it impossible to believe that the former soldier could have snowed him so fully. Edgerton was a trained sniper, a former soldier himself and an FBI agent who taught at Quantico.

Ian _taught_ people infiltration, reconnaissance, field craft, stalking, how to be observant… If he missed Colby being a spy and Ian was _that_ close to him, physically as well as emotionally and mentally, Edgerton shouldn't be teaching!

He went back over his time with Colby during their last vacation – especially at Colby's insistence of not talking about anything regarding their jobs or the military.

No, there was something else happening here, and Ian was going to find out what, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 7  
__Paragraphs – 82  
__Lines – 311  
__Words – 3532  
__Characters – 16137  
__Characters w/spaces – 19676  
_**NaNo Day Total – 3532  
****NaNo Total – 12333  
****Actual story – 17904  
**

_If the links don't come out well, check my LJ – listed as 'homepage' on my profile – for them._

_ANs: About age to join the military. According to the requirements for joining section – _

_.__ – state that 'the minimum age to join the National Guard is 17. Persons under age 18 must obtain the consent of a parent or legal guardian.' It also goes on to say that you must either 'currently be in high school or have a diploma or GED… also obtain a minimum qualifying score on the ASVAB.' So, once again, I've taken some 'artistic license' with this – assuming that the age limit was always 18 (no need for parental consent) and they'd give you a test to see where you were education wise and then put you into the classes that you needed (this thought comes from a variety of things)._

_I looked up animals for definitions on what each one represented as a spirit animal from a variety of locations. The one most used was 'Power Animals and Their Messages': __._


	8. Essence of Colby Day Ten NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Ten_

Ian's sleep was littered with a myriad of emotions, thoughts and memories, pieces of nightmares or replaced bits and pieces of them with each other. A nurse walked in during one of his wakeful periods asking if he'd like something to help him sleep. Ian declined; he needed to get through what was causing the problem on his own or, Ian knew from previous experience, it would be something that would haunt him for years to come.

Exhaustion finally pulled him into slumber around three in the morning but he was woken a few short hours later by the medical staff doing a vitals check and then changing the bandages on his wounds. While Ian knew that the nurses were only doing their job, holding his temper was hard. He was beyond tired, emotionally and mentally drained as well as in pain, not only from his wounds but from the death of his lover.

Ian knew that, as long as he was forced to sit still, things would just go from bad to worse. Thinking on it for about an hour, he finally called the office. Getting Megan, Ian told her that he needed something to keep his mind occupied and wanted to look at the case file involving the shooting.

A couple of hours later, Megan arrived with not only the case file of the drive-by but four boxes of other files. Ian gave her a long look before he sighed.

"They're going through all of Colby's files; making sure anything he was involved in was on the up and up."

Megan nodded to Ian's assumption. "We divided all of them up. When you called I thought… well, you wanted something to do—."

The sniper was already nodding his head with understanding, stopping her from having to continue.

The FBI profiler came close to the bed, bringing over another chair to use as a desk while she set some files on Ian's hospital table and together, they started going through them.

She neglected to mention that Colby's apartment was currently being gone through, thinking that it would only upset Ian even more. However, considering she'd already suspected that they'd been in some type of relationship, and she didn't want Ian dragged through the mud for it unless there was actually something there, Megan had gone by the place last night after the news and did her own toss of the place.

The agent hadn't come across anything that would implicate Ian, which Megan had found odd. She had expected to find at least a picture of Ian somewhere in the apartment or some type of correspondence of a personal nature. Instead, Megan had found just enough to corroborate the story that Colby and Ian had known each other as long distance friends – a couple of letters that told Colby where Ian would be stationed next and one telling him of Ian's being at Quantico.

Megan must have been so focused on her inner thoughts that she hadn't been paying attention to anything going on around her because Ian finally grabbed the file folder that was in her hand in order to get her attention.

She blinked and looked up at him.

"What's got you so preoccupied?"

Megan sighed.

"I really didn't want to mention it but… Colby's apartment is being gone through today." Ian briefly closed his eyes but opened them as Megan continued, "I … I stopped by last night to see if there was anything that…" Taking a breath, Megan admitted to looking around for anything that might connect Ian to Colby in anything other than a friendly manner.

"Megan… I appreciate the concern, but I don't want you compromising yourself to keep me from being investigated. Sooner or later, I'll be questioned about my relationship – intimate or otherwise – with him." Ian was touched that the profiler had gone to such lengths to try and protect him from being so personally connected with the deceased agent/former soldier now called spy.

"The thing is, I didn't find anything that suggested you were more than a casual friend; not even a picture. Just a couple of letters about where you were stationed and when you were at Quantico." Megan paused for a moment. "It was like the place had been gone through already to make sure there wasn't anything personal connecting you to him in any way but exceedingly casually. Almost like it had been sanitized."

The sniper frowned at that. He knew that, despite appearances, Colby was rather sentimental and Ian also knew there were several mementos that each of them had given the other that Colby cherished. Ian had seen them off and on through webcam conversations and such. Which brought up something else.

"What about his computer, his laptop?"

Megan focused inwardly on what she recalled of the interior of Colby's apartment. "I only saw the one the department gives each of us to use for work. Did he have another one?"

Ian frowned. Something was definitely going on and he had to find out what.

* * *

As Don was being driven to his apartment from the hospital after almost running from Ian's room, he spent the entire cab ride trying not to think; trying not to go over what had happened over the last twelve hours; over what had happened at the restaurant, in the parking lot, at the hospital. However, his mind kept whirling around and around, making it impossible to try and concentrate on anything else. What was his obsession with Ian Edgerton? Why did the thought of him being in some type of intimate relationship with Colby Granger make Don feel so frustrated?

Walking into his apartment, he was just about to grab his cell to call the office, letting them know he'd be in in a couple of hours, when Don realized he wasn't the only one there. Beginning to pull his gun, the unknown person muttered a phrase that the lead agent didn't catch and then there was darkness.

* * *

When Ian's lunch had arrived, Megan excused herself to the cafeteria, promising to bring him back something good – to which Ian had replied that it was still hospital food – and left him to his 'special diet.' Ian knew that, in order to get out of the hospital so he could investigate what was going on, he had to heal. That meant eating whatever the medical staff provided and to get as much restful sleep as possible. While the first was relatively easy to take care of – all Ian had to do was think of what he'd had to endure during some rough military missions (or some of the things they had had to stomach on the Reservation) – and the meal he had in front of him was a banquet.

The second was much more difficult. He knew that spending several hours going over case files with Megan would fatigue him, but would it be enough to give him a restful night? Ian longed to be able to get up and move around, to do some exercise to help calm his body, his mind _and_ his spirit. While meditating was a good thing, Ian…. meditating when one was in a certain mindset could tempt the spirits, could allow oneself to be open to things that Ian didn't feel up to handling at the moment.

Bottom line, Ian was afraid of what would come from the meditation. Yes, Grandfather could come to speak with him again, which Ian wouldn't mind. But… a newly deceased lover was something, someone, that Ian couldn't bear to deal with when he was so drained. He needed some time to build up some reserves before that happened. And it _would_ happen, Ian was sure of it.

Once Megan returned, they worked on until just before dinner. Before the profiler could bid Ian goodbye for the night, he frowned, looking at the clock on the wall.

"You know, I haven't seen anyone here but you. Where's Don?"

"He took yesterday off and called this morning saying that he had some things he wanted to follow up on: he's been out of the office all day."

Ian raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't sound like Don."

Megan sighed while nodding slightly, "I think having two agents downed basically right in front of him and Don walking away without a scratch has made him feel … something akin to survivors' guilt. And his dad and Charlie have been a little unsettled by the whole thing as well, so he's been working from the apartment.

"I have to say, if it happened to me, I'd be pretty rattled too."

Ian thought about that for a moment before nodding his head slightly. A moment later, Megan was letting him know that she'd be back some time tomorrow so they could continue and then telling him goodnight.

Half an hour later, Ian phoned Don. It rang several times before going to voice mail and, after brief consideration, Ian left a short message.

A few hours later, Ian fell asleep, hoping he'd be able to get through the long night without much trouble.

****

Ian found himself in his apartment in Virginia. He frowned. Of all the places to dream about, this place wasn't one of them, really. It was a nice place but it didn't have any real connection to him other than a place to live while he worked at Quantico. While he utilized the space more and better than Don Eppes did with his, it wasn't necessarily what Ian considered a home. Although, considering his life, Ian would probably never have such a place in the traditional sense.

Shaking his head at how his mind was working, Ian decided to just go with it. He did like his apartment but Ian felt it had always lacked something. And then, just like that, he _knew_….

… Colby's voice made him turn around.

Colby had never been to his apartment in Virginia. And when Ian turned to find his deceased lover standing in his living room, he knew exactly what his apartment had always lacked. But having Colby here, now, when Ian wasn't ready to see him… Ian closed his eyes, bowing his head slightly, trying to gather some strength from a body that didn't have a lot at the moment.

Before he was ready for it, arms wrapped around him, holding him close, radiating warmth, comfort and so many other things that Ian wanted, needed so badly right now. He felt his knees buckle and Colby slowly guided them down to the floor, never letting go of his dark haired lover.

Once settled, Ian felt the large blonde caressing him; the hands that had so often given him pleasure, comfort, love and friendship ran through Ian's hair, down his back and then repeated. Colby's breath was warm against his neck, the light kisses his blonde lover placed on his neck, the crook of neck and shoulder, were bittersweet in the fact that Ian would never feel them for real ever again… that Colby would never be around to give them to him for real.

Soon, Ian gave himself over to the emotions that were roiling within him; he was so utterly drained. As the mental walls that he'd put all of the memories and emotions concerning Colby behind, crumbled under the weight of his grief, Ian broke into body wracking sobs.

"You died, Colby! You _died_, _damnit_!"

Colby wrapped himself around his dark haired lover, pulling him closer, almost to the point where nether of them could breath, whispering apologies and endearments and loving, soothing words as Ian cried himself out, going from dreaming to deep, healing sleep.

****

When Ian woke the next morning in the small hospital bed, in the private room that had been assigned to him, Ian found that his emotions weren't as raw as they had been. While there was still a deep ache within him over the loss of Colby, Ian at least felt that he wouldn't break apart at the drop of a hat, at least for now.

Megan arrived mid-morning to find the agent hemmed in by case files. Ian had a pile on either side of him, resting on the mattress between his body and the bed railings with two others sitting on the over-the-bed rolling hospital bed table. Ian also had a legal pad and pen sitting on his torso, where he appeared to be taking notes at odd intervals.

"You really don't like not having anything to do." The profiler said as she came to sit at the side of the bed where she had worked yesterday.

"Morning, Megan. And no, not really. Too use to keeping busy." Ian looked up long enough to give the woman a small smile in greeting before going back to the case he was going over.

"You ever take any vacations?" Megan wondered.

Ian's countenance shifted slightly before returning to how it had been before her question. "Used to."

Given what she'd just observed as well as what she knew now, Megan dropped the entire subject as she gathered a pile of the files for herself.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 4  
__Paragraphs – 51  
__Lines – 188  
__Words – 2186  
__Characters – 9908  
__Characters w/spaces – 12121  
_**NaNo Day Total – 2186  
****NaNo Total – 14519  
****Actual story – 20090  
**


	9. Essence of Colby Day Eleven NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Eleven_

Don woke, finding himself in bed, in his pajamas, his bedside alarm going off. Sitting up, he turned the alarm off and then took a breath. Blinking his eyes, Don had the peculiar sense that he'd lost time somewhere and, grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand, he checked the time and date, frowning when the dark haired agent saw it was when it should be.

Wasn't it?

Sighing, Don got out of bed, heading to the bathroom. Stripping down, he found a couple of bruises he had no idea how he'd gotten. Frowning once again, Don got into the shower, immediately plunging his head into the water.

He distinctly remembered coming home from the hospital the day before yesterday… but then everything else, until waking up just a moment ago, felt like it was someone else's memories.

Don shook his head. He thought he was over these damn episodes! Was he ever going to be free of what happened to him all those years ago?

****

About a year into his Fugitive Recovery career with the FBI, the case he and Coop were working on got really hairy. The man they were looking for was a condemned murderer; escaped from prison during a transfer. A former soldier who had some special training but their superiors thought that Don and Coop would be able to handle the man on their own.

Well, they'd been wrong. Gray had set a trap for them which lead Cooper to be put in the hospital for two weeks and Don to be kidnapped.

Their colleagues hadn't known anything was wrong until a "John Doe" at some hospital had been identified as an FBI agent and the hospital had contacted the local field office for information on him.

A manhunt ensued and seven days later, Don had been found in such bad shape that no one knew if he was going to make it or not.

After almost four weeks in the hospital, another ten recovering at home and then another fifteen on desk duty, Don had finally been cleared to go back to field duty for the Fugitive Recovery department… _if_ he still wanted to. It was just two months later that Don had first come in contact with Ian Edgerton.

However, ever since the kidnapping, Don had had issues with either missing time or feeling disconnected from his own memories – that what he was remembering about what had happened over the 'missing time,' weren't his, weren't right. After almost a year of therapy, medical attention and psychoanalysis, 'they' had simply labeled it as some unique Post Traumatic Stress symptom.

Don was told that, unless things changed, or something new presented itself, to basically ignore them and learn to live with the episodes.

As Don soaped himself in the shower, he thought of how they had been more frequent over the last few months but, other than that, nothing had changed.

Nothing was _wrong_ really.

He just hated feeling so… vulnerable… out of sync… disconnected from his life.

* * *

When lunch arrived for Ian, Megan opted to go to the cafeteria and bring something back so they could eat together. Once she was settled back in her chair, Ian decided to take one bull by the horns.

"How's David handling all this?" He questioned Don's profiler, watching her carefully.

Megan sighed, aware of the sniper's scrutiny. "He was part of the team that searched Colby's place yesterday. David's… he's not taking things really well, but he's dealing. In his own way."

Ian nodded. "I noticed that he and Colby," Ian's voiced sounded strained when he said his deceased lover's name but continued, "seemed pretty close."

It was Megan's turn to nod, giving the other agent a tender glance, "Yeah. It was a good partnership. … Colby… he once said that he'd begun to think of David as a really good friend."

Ian took a large breath and then titled his head back, giving the ceiling a quick look before returning to his meal.

* * *

David was sitting at one of the outside tables of a little café not too far from the office, not paying much attention to his food, lost in thought. Yesterday he'd spent the majority of the day going through his former partner's apartment. A partner he'd begun to think of as a best friend; hell, even like a brother, a brother he'd never had.

Then to find out that that person was a spy… a spy for a foreign country.

The thought of Colby Granger, former soldier, Special Agent for the FBI, part of a family with a long military history… being a spy… was just… it was just too much for the handsome black man to wrap his mind around. David had been a soldier as well, he'd spent time under fire in Tel Aviv when he worked with bomb disposal and had been with the FBI for longer than Granger, having transferred to LA from Long Beach.

How could Granger … how could he turn his back on his own country – throw away all his family's honor and respect for… David shook his head. The more his mind kept going over everything, the more upset and angry and frustrated the agent became.

He'd gone into Granger's apartment, trying to distance himself from all the time he had spent here with his former partner; watching whatever game was on, dinners and movies when they had just gotten off a case and needed some downtime, sometimes just BSing about anything and everything until the adrenaline and stress had dissipated before heading off for his own place.

David had looked at the place with new eyes, looking for all the places that could conceal counter-intelligence equipment, information and etc.

The team he'd come with had torn the place apart and hadn't found much of anything that was or might be suspicious. They'd found a couple of those wooden boxes that you had to open in a certain way in order to unlock whatever was inside that would have to be taken back to the lab and x-rayed; some flash drives, a couple that looked like bullets, one like a credit card and two more that looked like toys that sat on a desk but other than that, there wasn't anything.

If Granger had been a spy, it seemed he did his business somewhere or somehow else.

They'd already gotten a warrant for search and seizure of all his assets, bank and phone records. David pulled out his cell phone, still playing with his food back at the café, and called the office, wondering if anyone had thought of pulling all of the CCTV footage from cameras between Granger's place and work… and within the office as well. Maybe what they were looking for was in plain sight; would Granger be dumb… or was that smart… enough to hide everything within the office or the building itself?

* * *

Don had been working on getting reports of a few previous cases finished and off his desk since he'd got in that morning. The case regarding Colby Granger and Ian Edgerton being shot was still open but with nothing new other than now knowing that it was a bungled assassination attempt, which, now that Granger was dead, seemed to have worked _if_ he was the target. If not, that left Ian and himself.

And then there was the entire mess of Granger being a spy. He knew David, a few other agents and some techs had tossed Granger's place yesterday but from the preliminary reports, they didn't seem to have found anything overtly suspicious. Don also knew that David wasn't dealing really well with the situation but, that was to be expected he supposed.

Don and David would have to talk with Ian as there had been some personal correspondence from him to Granger and, as witnessed in the bullpen conference room and the restaurant the day before yesterday, they seemed to know each other well. And from the kiss that Don alone witnessed, they may have known each other much better.

The dark haired lead agent ran a hand over his head. What did Ian know? What did he suspect? Was Ian involved somehow with Granger being a spy? Was the hit for Granger or Ian, or both? If so, why? For what reason?

Don didn't even think that the hit could have been for him, personally. He had been on the other side of the SUV; the drive-by had been focused on the passenger side, where Ian and Colby were. Don was sure the intended target had been one of them, if not both.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 3  
__Paragraphs – 35  
__Lines – 130  
__Words – 1439  
__Characters – 6517  
__Characters w/spaces – 7962  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1439  
****NaNo Total – 15958  
****Actual story – 21529  
**


	10. Essence of Colby Day Twelve NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Twelve_

That night, after Ian fell asleep, he once again found himself at the campsite he and Colby had shared on their last night together. The place he'd talked with the spirit of his Grandfather when Ian had been sedated while Colby was dying.

The campfire was burning merrily, the stars were thick in the sky and it was chilly.

And Colby was there, dressed as he'd been that night, a blanket on his lap, waiting for Ian to make himself comfortable so Colby could wrap themselves both up together.

Ian swallowed, aware that his eyes were overly bright and tried to smile.

Colby looked over and up to him. "Come here."

Taking a large breath, Ian walked over to his blonde lover and hunkered down next to him. Colby wrapped the blanket around them, pulling Ian even closer, arms and legs tangling with the sniper's.

They just sat there for an unknown amount of time, soaking in each other's company, watching the campfire, which didn't seem to burn down at all, and the stars rotate overhead.

Ian treasure the time, leaning his back into Colby's chest, feeling Colby's breath ghost over his hair, near his ear, revealing in the feeling of soft kisses placed on his head, temple, neck, the warm and strong arms wrapped around his chest, holding him against Colby's body. Tension, stress and pain melted away.

He knew it was a dream, maybe a vision, and that all this contentment would disappear as soon as he woke up, but Ian was going to take what was offered. He _needed_ it, he _wanted_ it so badly. Ian needed whatever Colby was willing to give him… especially with what the sniper, the agent, was going to be doing as soon as he could.

Not willing to do so, Ian had to break the silence. However, just as Ian took a breath to speak, Colby was already talking.

"It's not what you've heard, Ian." Colby had moved so that, while his lover was still in his embrace, Colby and Ian could now look each other in the eyes. "There's so much I want to tell you, but I … I don't even know where to begin or even _how_ to tell you."

Ian looked at his friend, his lover. "I know you, Colby, but I need to hear it from you; I need to see you say it." Ian swallowed.

"I'm not spying for another country, for China, or anyone else. I'm in covert counter-intelligence."

Ian frowned, how'd his miss that?!

While Ian knew that Colby couldn't have been a spy, at least in with respect to betraying his country, Ian had missed that Colby was a spy in a different sense, in that he was someone _looking_ for those who were.

"Ian, please…" Colby was looking at him with a somewhat broken, sad, expression, "I knew I couldn't be around you after I was given the assignment. I knew that I couldn't really talk with you at all because you'd see something. You'd figure it out and I couldn't put you in that position.

"I was undercover and got in way over my head, but I couldn't… I couldn't get out of it. It was too big." Hesitating, Colby muttered, "Too damn big."

The large blonde had lifted his head to the sky for that last before looking back to his lover, tears beginning to run down his face. "And it was killing me not to have any contact, real contact, with you. I wanted, needed to talk to you so much. That night at the restaurant… after a year of being undercover… after more than a year of dealing with all this stuff… I needed to connect with you so badly. I needed to … I just needed you."

Colby swallowed, his eyes bright, voice strained and husky.

"If I'd known what was going to happen, I would have taken you, right there, right then, to hell with whoever saw. I would have told you everything and asked for your understanding and forgiveness then."

Ian pulled his lover close, hands on both sides of Colby's head. "One, you never have to ask for my understanding or forgiveness, ever. I know who you are, Colby; I've never doubted you. Two, you should have taken me right then… I needed to know what had turned you so desperate…," Ian swallowed hard, a couple of tears starting to fall down his own face, "I love you, Colby Granger. I will always love you. I'm so sorry that I never got to tell you when you were alive.

"As soon as I can, I'm getting out of the hospital and I am proving that you aren't a spy, that you aren't a traitor, that you are the bravest, strongest, most honorable and responsible man that I have ever met in my entire life and that you—" Ian's voice broke but before he could continue, Colby's mouth closed on his and Ian lost himself in the kiss.

****

The next moment, Ian found himself in a large bed, wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs, warm breath fluttering on the back of his neck, completely naked. While he knew it had to be a continuation of the dream, or, given their inability to contain their emotions, a vision, it was so real – incredibly real – like real life real, like Colby wasn't dead.

Ian could feel the warmth radiating from the body behind him, hear the familiar heartbeat of the man pressed into him, smell their scents mixed together and could still taste Colby's kiss in his mouth.

His heart stuttered in his chest, breath becoming shallow as he fought to keep the tears at the back of his eyes from finding their way to the surface and run down his cheeks. Ian's emotions were all over the place as he soaked in the presence of Colby's naked, warm, strong body wrapped around him.

However, before Ian could pull himself together, the body behind him – the arms and legs tangled with his – began to move. Colby pulled Ian harder and closer to him, kissing the nape of his neck, moving down to his shoulders and then over his upper back, rubbing his face in Ian's short, dark hair, taking in deep breaths of the man. Colby's hands were running up and down his chest, pinching, pulling and squeezing his nipples, seeming to deliberately avoid Ian's stiffening cock

Ian could feel his lover's own aroused body, smell the musky scent of him and he couldn't be still any longer. Even if it was only a dream, a damn dream, Ian needed everything that Colby meant to him… he needed it more than the air in his lungs.

Flipping them over, pushing Colby's back to the mattress, he spread his body over the top of his lover's. Colby seemed just as desperate for Ian's touch, his kisses, as Ian was for the blonde's. Their coupling was frantic and hard, nothing short of almost brutal; if this had been real, they'd definitely be sore and have bruises later.

Colby's legs wrapped around Ian's waist, while the dark haired man thrusted into him; following the demands of '_harder_' and '_faster_' and '_more, damnit_' from his lover. Ian was kissing him bruisingly, where ever he could reach, biting his nipples, leaving marks all over the fair skinned man.

Ian stopped kissing Colby, pulling himself away, watching Colby's flushed skin, the sweat bead on his body and then beginning to run down the contours of muscle, sinew and bone. He could feel his lover's body getting closer and closer to orgasm and continued pounding into him, changing position just enough so every thrust rubbed against the blonde's prostate.

Colby opened his eyes and focused on Ian, his gaze relentless and intense. There was something there that Ian had never noticed before and then Colby tumbled them over so that Ian was the one being fucked into the mattress after Colby took a moment to readjust.

Colby pounded into Ian, driving deep and hard into his lover's body. Ian had never been claimed so desperately, so deeply – mentally, emotionally – that his breathing was almost non-existent. Ian's own orgasm was building and then Colby grabbed the base of his erection, holding it at bay, almost painfully.

Ian's eyes opened wide, his pupils blown, his breathing shallow and his heart felt as if it was beating its way out of his chest.

That something in Colby's eyes was even more intense and Ian couldn't look away, even if he wanted.

Colby's husky voice, whiskey over broken glass, came to him. "Say it, Ian." His blonde lover was still pounding into him, enough so that the entire bed was shaking with each powerful thrust. Grabbing his upper arms, Colby kept Ian pinned down while bringing his thighs up under Ian's backside, adjusting himself to drive even more deeply into his lover's body. "God Ian, say it; say it again!"

Colby's emotions were shattered if his voice and the way he was pounding into Ian was anything to go by. Ian knew what he wanted, and he didn't want Colby begging for it; for something that was killing Ian because he hadn't gotten to say it to his lover for real… before Colby died.

"I love you, Colby! God, I love you!" Ian was saying, tears rolling down his temples into his hair and then Ian was screaming Colby's name as his blonde lover took him over the edge, hearing his own name from Colby and then, as if whispered directly into his mind…

"Always, Ian. Always; will always love you. Will always be with you."

****

When Ian was able to pull his brain into actual working order, he found himself awake, back in the hospital bed. However, the sensation of being wrapped up in his lover's arms was powerful enough that Ian had to look to his chest to make sure he wasn't actually there with him.

Closing his eyes, real tears started rolling down his cheeks and into the pillow Ian had buried his head in. Moments later, Ian was pounding his pillow over and over again, shaking his head slightly.

Almost an hour later, Ian fell into an exhausted, deep and healing sleep, still feeling as if he were tangled in the body of his blonde lover.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 3  
__Paragraphs – 41  
__Lines – 146  
__Words – 1726  
__Characters – 7734  
__Characters w/spaces – 9475  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1726  
****NaNo Total – 17684  
****Actual story – 23255  
**

**From here on it's hopefully one per day but... /chuckle.**

**I'd really like to know what you think so if you've time, energy and the inclination, please give the story a review :) Thanks**


	11. Essence of Colby Day Thirteen NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_**WARNING:**_ There's some lead up to bad stuff in the second half of the story _**BUT**_ there is no conclusion to it in this chapter.

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Thirteen_

The next morning found Don, David and Megan in one of the bullpen's conference rooms, for a private discussion.

"Megan, you've been spending a lot of time with Ian, how's he doing?" Don asked his profiler.

Megan didn't know if she should mention anything about Ian grieving as more of a lover than a friend so settled for somewhere in between. "He's taking Colby's death pretty hard. But Ian's willing to help us go through the cases and he definitely wants to help find Colby's killer."

Don's brow furrowed, "You're having him go through Granger's case files?"

"He needed something to do, Don, and he's a qualified FBI agent laid up in the hospital. He's been told, along with the rest of us, that Colby's supposedly a spy… Colby was a friend, he wants to get to the bottom of this – he needs some type of closure – just as much as the rest of us." Megan defended.

Don snorted slightly, "I get that. But he's too involved with Granger; I don't want him anywhere near any investigation with Colby's name on it until Edgerton's cleared."

David frowned, "Don, wait, we're all involved with Col—Granger. If that's how you feel about it, we should all be off the case."

Don looked over to David, "You kissing Granger too?"

"What?!" David looked to his superior like he'd hit him over the side of the head with a two by four.

"I saw Colby kiss Ian at the restaurant when you went to the bathroom and I went to the bar. Edgerton didn't put up a fight."

While David looked nonplused over the concept, Megan didn't seem surprised in the slightest.

With a sharp gesture of his head, Don confronted the woman, "You knew."

Megan looked back at him confidently, "I suspected."

"You suspected? Did you confirm that suspicion, Agent Reeves?"

Megan frowned, looking at her boss and realized that he was furious. While Don had every right to be upset, she didn't understand his anger.

"No Don, I didn't confirm my suspicion with an out and out question; I did it through observation."

"Right." Don looked to David, "You and I are going to the hospital to question Agent Edgerton." Turning back to Megan, he continued. "You're on desk duty until further notice Agent Reeves – be thankful it's not a suspension."

* * *

When Don and David walked into Agent Edgerton's hospital room, they found him in a similar position to how Megan had found him yesterday – case files all around and notepad on his torso.

Ian looked up and found the two agents looking at him with their game faces on. "Hey you guys. Don, good to see you."

The SAC for the LA office glanced at David and, without a word, the handsome black agent moved to gather the case files from around Ian and put them in the appropriate box while Don came to the side of the bed, picking up the notepad, watching the injured sniper carefully.

Inwardly sighing, Ian sat up in bed as straight as he was able, getting ready for the interrogation he had suspected would happen sooner or later.

"Agent Reeves has been assigned desk duty until further notice; she's also facing possible suspension, as are you, so it's in your best interest to answer the questions posed to you as truthfully as possible." Despite their friendship, Don wasn't pulling any punches.

After a small frown, Ian decided he'd better put on his own game face as Don continued, getting straight to the point.

"Agent Edgerton, were you or were you not, intimately involved with former Special Agent Colby Granger?"

Without hesitation, but sighing inwardly, the sniper answered the question.

"Yes, I was."

David had had a little time to get used to the idea of Colby and Ian being… involved, but now that the answer had been confirmed, he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the reality of it.

Ian registered David's slight change in demeanor, understanding it for his disbelief of the relationship. Don's reaction though really puzzled the sniper. Don was angry… maybe even furious, but Ian didn't have time to contemplate it with the lead agent's next words.

"Agent Edgerton, I'm placing you under house arrest for suspicion of aiding and abetting a known traitor." Ian blinked at the comment, the charge. Don couldn't be serious!

Yes, Ian had expected some type of questioning, but he hadn't expected for them to be treating him as a criminal. He caught David moving to the hospital room door out of his peripheral vision but kept his main focus on Don.

The door opened to show two other agents standing in the hall. While one stayed outside near the door, the second came into the room and approached the bed, placing one of Ian's wrists in a handcuff and then securing the other end to one of the bed's rails.

Something dark moved behind Don's eyes, fast enough that, had Ian not been watching, he wouldn't have seen it. The sniper frowned once again. How could Don think… While Ian was aware that there was cause to suspend him for going through Colby's files, as a conflict of interest, how could Don have come up with the charge of being an accomplice to Colby?

Looking at Don, Ian saw a slight smirk on the lead agent's face; the darkness that had moved behind the eyes earlier seemed to peek out at Ian for just a moment and then Don's expression normalized.

"Don…. What the hell? I didn't even know where Colby was until the day of the night he was killed." Ian struggled to keep his voice level and calm, keep himself still, tramping down on his emotions.

"You don't have to know where anyone is, just how to contact them, to pass on information. Or vice versa, Edgerton." Agent Eppes replied before nodding at David. As the black agent and the other man moved to take the file boxes out to the hallway, Don moved closer to the side of the bed. Once the door was closed behind the two with the boxes, leaving Ian and Don alone in the room, Eppes moved as fast as a striking snake.

Grabbing the back of Ian's head, he crushed their mouths together; using the shock, Don struck out with one hand, moving the bedding aside and grabbing Ian's groin in a rough grip. When Ian tried to move away, making to complain, Don let go of his groin and punched the bullet wound in the man's side. As the air went out of the sniper, Eppes moved his hand back to Ian's groin, smothering Ian's protests in their crushed together mouths.

As Don rubbed Ian's penis, he bit the agent's bottom lip, drawing blood. Backing off just enough for eye-to-eye contact, Don tightly wrapped his fingers in Ian's hair and pulled his head back, bending his neck awkwardly and painfully.

The darkness was back in Don's eyes and the facial expression he had on was enough to make Ian shudder.

"Now, this is how it's going to play, Edgerton. You're gonna spread your legs for me; you're gonna do anything and everything I want, anytime and everytime I want or you're gonna be buried so deep that it'll take a miracle for you to see light again.

"I might have missed Colby spying on me at the beginning," Ian's eyes went wide, "but I'm not gonna make the same mistake with you. You don't play ball with me Edgerton, you'll regret ever knowing me. Got that?" Don shook Ian's head hard and fast a couple of times.

Ian was still trying to recover from everything that had happened over the last few minutes, shocked at what was going on, and was slow to answer. Don once again let go of Ian's groin and punched the wound again, his mouth going over Ian's to swallow the sharp yelp the injured man produced and then…

Don stuck some cloyingly sweet smelling material over his nose and mouth and Ian fought his way right into darkness.

****

When he came too, groggy and having a headache that wouldn't quit, Ian found himself restrained, much like he'd been the day Colby had died. He also had something in his mouth that made anything but muffled noises sound into the room.

Looking around, he found that the blinds in for his window into the hospital had been drawn tightly closed and that Don stood near the small window on the left side of the room.

When the agent turned to look at him though, it wasn't Don – at least, not the Don Eppes that Ian was familiar with. This one was… he was almost the complete opposite of what or who Ian was used to seeing. The darkness in his eyes glittered and a wicked smirk was the expression being shown. And when he started walking towards Ian, restrained on the small hospital bed, he moved like a born killer.

"I think you need to learn that what I say, I mean, Edgerton; because I think you don't respect me as much as you should." Don had reached the bedside now and yanked the covers off Ian, throwing them to the floor. Then Don stripped Ian of the hospital gown, throwing it aside as well, before beginning to fondle the injured and naked sniper.

"How many times has this body been fucked by that _traitor_? How many times has that spy looked at you and you've gone to your knees, lifted your ass in the air, for him?" Don looked his prey over, top to bottom and back again, the expression on his face one of desperate hunger. When he reached the sniper's eyes, he caught Ian's glance to the door of the room and smiled wickedly.

"Oh, don't worry, Edgerton, I'm on watch duty. You and I have hours of time to spend together."

****

While Ian had been attracted and interested in Don, for years, he'd never approached him about it. Truthfully, since becoming intimate with Colby, Ian hadn't had any other intimate partners over the years. That should have told Ian how serious he was about the big blonde, but he'd never really thought about it. Just put it aside to being too busy for a roll in the hay lately.

However, the Don that was looking at him right now, Ian didn't want any part of. The man in front, or above, him was someone that Ian didn't know at all. The whole person was just wrong! Ian knew killers, he could be one of them as well when needed, but this Don… This Don was someone even Ian wouldn't want to run up against in a dark alley, at least not without a weapon to hand.

As Eppes reached a hand up and began to unbutton the shirt he was wearing, Ian's eyes widened slightly and he began pulling at his restraints.

Eppes threw his head back, laughing darkly, while continuing to take the shirt off and then moving to his pants. "I never thought I'd see you back down from anything, Edgerton. You should be happy; you've wanted me, or Don, for a long time. Now, you're gonna get him. In a way." Don moved back from the bed just a little to take his shoes and socks off before pulling his pants and briefs down.

Naked, Eppes stood next to the bed and then pulled a chair closer, putting a knee up on the seat of it. Leaning over the rail, he fondled Ian's groin and then moved to bend to a bag on the floor. Pulling it up and setting it on the chair, Eppes used the seat to climb over the rails of the bed. Ian was thrashing under him but when Eppes sat down on his stomach, the sniper flinched at the pressure on his wound, gasping in a couple of breaths from the pain as Eppes fingered it hard.

Eppes eyes were bright and dark, his smile was feral. "Now, let's have some fun."

Word Statistics

_Pages – 4  
__Paragraphs – 54  
__Lines – 184  
__Words – 2013  
__Characters – 8984  
__Characters w/spaces – 11011  
_**NaNo Day Total – 2013  
****NaNo Total – 19697  
****Actual story – 25268  
**


	12. Essence of Colby Day Fourteen NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_**WARNING:**_ The last chapter ended with a lead up to bad stuff. This chapter deals with that bad stuff. While it's not too graphic, it is non-con/rape of a male by a single male along with discussion of a previous attack suffered by the character.

I didn't really want to go into this or in this direction, but the muse leads so I follow, cautiously. I am an avid fan of hurt/comfort HOWEVER, there's gotta be a lot of comfort after the hurting AND I do not, in any way, shape or form, condone/support/whatever domestic violence, rape/non-con or any other form of trauma or harm upon another human/animal/being.

As with other traumas, there is a lot of damage done, mentally – emotionally – physically – spiritually – that needs to be healed/worked through/repaired. At this point in time, I don't know if the muse is planning on doing that within the story or off-camera so… bear with me.

I've also included some information regarding sexual assault at the bottom of this chapter for those interested.

With that said, please read at your own discretion.

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Fourteen_

_Eppes' eyes were bright and dark, his smile was feral. "Now, let's have some fun."_

With that simple sentence, the world that Ian had built for himself came tumbling down. He knew what it was like to be … raped… It had happened to him once before and he'd survived it. Ian had grown stronger, in ways that he'd never imagined he could, because of it. But that didn't mean, in any way, shape or form, that he wanted to go through the experience again.

This time, it was just one man, a man that he'd had lustful thoughts of for several years, but not. This time, he was completely nude, restrained and wounded – unlike last time, when he'd been mostly covered with his uniform while a group of guys took turns egging each other on with beating him up as well as forcibly violating him with inanimate objects as well as their dicks.

As Ian struggled against the other agent, the man sitting on him squirmed against the sniper, like he was trying to ride a wild stallion into submission. Ian realized that, sooner or later, he wouldn't have the strength to keep Do – no, this wasn't Don… this was… hell, Ian had no idea what was going on here, but he couldn't think of this… this _person_ that looked like his friend Don to _be_ Don – from what he wanted.

Panting as best he could through the gag, Ian had to settle against the hospital mattress.

The doppelganger laughed, "That's right, Edgerton, that's right. Just settle down and be a good little whore."

Ian threw all his strength into trying to knock the man off him and the double laughed again. "Oh, you don't like that name huh? Well, you're going to learn to accept it, 'cause that's what you are. You're gonna do everything I tell you to do, whenever I tell you." The man laughed again, "But, you aren't gonna get paid for it, unless, of course, you like what I'm going to be doing to you." The doppleganger's eyes brightened sadistically; the smile, full, without humor.

The sniper's body was already beaded with sweat, his hair damp and sticking to his face. Don began petting him, running his hands all around Ian's body and he tried not to shudder with revulsion.

"Ah, you're going to be a great ride, I can tell. Don's always been slightly obsessed with you, Edgerton. Every time you're around, he walked around with his cock half hard. But he never let himself do anything with you. Me on the other hand," the man laughed again, "I'd have done this a long time ago, but I couldn't take the chance. Now, with Granger dead and named as a traitor, I can ease up a bit." As the man talked, his was prepping himself to take Ian's cock into himself. At this last, he looked back to Ian, "You know, have some fun."

Ian fought to keep himself still but the open… glee… that he saw on Don's face was unnerving. How could Don hide such a twisted personality? How could he delight in what he was about to do?

While Ian knew that he would put up a good fight, whatever stimulus the double used on him would work; all it would take was time and his body would react – it was natural. Ian had been through this before, knew what was coming, and fought to remember what he'd learned about male rape. He needed to bring it to the forefront of his mind to help combat the guilt and shame that he would undoubtedly feel – it was human nature for a man to feel so, considering how society taught them to be.

_"Male victims/survivors are often ashamed and confused when their body responds during an assault. Frequently, men who are sexually assaulted or raped have an involuntary or forced erection and/or ejaculation. Also, muscles in the anus often relax when a man is raped. This does not mean that the survivor wanted to be raped or sexually assaulted. Involuntary erections and ejaculations are normal reactions to physical stimulation even when sex is non-consensual"….._

…_. "When a male is raped (by a male or female) the involuntary physiological response of erection or ejaculation cannot be taken to imply that the act was welcomed by the victim. A capable assailant, male or female, can induce these involuntary physical responses in the majority of males with force and/or with deception"._

The doppelganger finished with himself and turned his attention on Ian, bringing Ian's mind back to the here and now with a punch to the wound on the sniper's side.

"No wondering off now."

As Ian fought to breathe through the pain of his re-enflamed wound, the fight for power – because that's what this was about – the double wanted power and control over him – began.

_All the experts agree that rape is almost never about the sex. Its about power and control. Excercising your will over someone elses. Essentially proving that you are the one in control. That you are stronger than the other person._

Ian continued to try and distance himself from what was happening but Don had an uncanny ability to know when Ian was successful at turning his mind away from the situation; the double was also very good at bringing Ian's focus back to what was being done to him.

Once Ian was erect, the doppelganger a cock ring and placed it on the sniper. Once that was done, the double sank himself onto Ian's hard shaft.

"Oh yes, whore, I knew you'd be good. Oh yeah, Edgerton." Don looked Ian straight in the eyes, gloating and gleeful. "I can see why Granger had the hots for you. I can't wait to put myself in your tight ass. I bet that I'll do things to you that he never even thought of. And you'll love it."

As Ian fought to keep from reacting, the double started jerking off, lifting himself off his shaft and then lowering himself back down. Ian could feel Don's anal walls tightening and loosening and trembling and the stimulation was provoking his erection, he could feel his body building up for the release that would humiliate him.

Even knowing what he knew, the sniper still felt guilty and ashamed for the erection that his body was producing. But something even worse was taking all his concentration not to react to. To his feelings of being unfaithful to Colby – like Ian was betraying his lover by having such a response to someone other than the big blonde.

Especially with Don.

Whether it was the Don he knew as a friend or this … doppelganger… Ian had had lustful thoughts of him over the years. To be in this situation, knowing that it wasn't _that_ Don, didn't help. Knowing that Colby wouldn't blame him for this sexual assault didn't help either.

Colby was gone. He was dead and labeled a traitor. And now, it seemed as Ian had been plopped right down into the middle of whatever Colby had been working on.

Ian was brought back, once again, from being lost in his thoughts with a powerful blow to his face.

His ears ringing, Ian found himself looking into the furious gaze of his assaulter.

"Seems as if I can't keep your attention. How about we try something different."

And then Don was pulling himself off of Ian's cock and bringing out a bunch apparatus from the bag.

What Ian saw made him feel even sicker.

Don's double had caught the reaction, no matter how slight it was, and smiled.

"Like I told you, we have hours of fun to be together."

* * *

_Somewhere in Los Angeles…_

"How's our patient?"

"Still comatose, Sir. That bullet caused a lot of damage and what we did to get him out of there… I'm not sure if he'll ever come out of it, Sir."

"Any news regarding Agent Edgerton?"

"Not since Eppes put him under house arrest and moved him to that corner room. We can't get anyone near there without endangering Edgerton's life, or jeopardizing our position and operation, Sir."

"Damnit! Colby was so close to finding out who the Sleeper was. Has there been any progress made in locating his laptop?"

"No, Sir. The FBI's techs and agents haven't found out anything through their toss of Agent Granger's residence either. However, Agent Sinclair ordered all CCTV coverage of the routes between Granger's apartment and the FBI office as well as movement inside the building, to be gone over."

The man looked interested in this development. "His reasoning?"

"Maybe Agent Granger was more devious than they suspected and hid things in plain sight, somewhere in the building, Sir."

Sighing, he nodded to the woman. "Keep me posted."

"Yes, Sir."

Leaving the room that was being used as an office and nurses station, Michael Kirkland, Section Three Director from the Defense Intelligence Agency, entered another.

Once inside, he looked to the hospital bed surrounded with all the medical paraphernalia that was needed to monitor and keep the pale and still figure in the bed from dying. In the quiet of the room, the respirator seemed incredibly loud.

Kirkland walked up to the side of the bed that was relatively free of machines and looked down at the man that had come to him almost a year ago and a half ago for preparation to be sent on an undercover mission. After being approached by a fellow soldier to betray his country, the man had reported the contact and… the rest, they say, is history.

Resting his arms along the rail on the bed, Michael gazed at the man he'd come to think of as a friend – a man he respected greatly.

"You have to pull through this. We need to know what you found out."

The blonde haired man continued to be quiet and still. If it wasn't for the respirator, he wouldn't even be breathing.

"Come on, Colby. We need you."

Colby's eyes remained closed.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 3 / 4  
__Paragraphs – 48 / 51  
__Lines – 151 / 164  
__Words – 1510 / 1675  
__Characters – 6782 / 7641  
__Characters w/spaces – 8306 / 9327  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1510  
****NaNo Total – 21207  
****Actual story – 26943  
**

The three paragraphs in _italics_ regarding male sexual assault came from the following (check my 'homepage' – LJ – for links):

_The Forensic Nurse_: Ejaculation During Male Rape

./2008/10/27/ejaculation-during-male-rape/

_AC Associated Content Society_: Sexual Arousal in Male Victims of Rape

.com/article/788049/sexual_arousal_in_male_victims_of_?cat=47

Another source that is helpful for those having gone through such a trauma is:

_Abused Empowered Survive Thrive_ – Male Rape myths and facts, the rape of men.

./survivors/male/myths_about_male_

If you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted, please, talk with someone.


	13. Essence of Colby Day Fifteen NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Fifteen_

Due to his position and the need for secrecy, Michael Kirkland couldn't visit or stay at the safe house that had been converted for the injured Colby Granger, often or long. He'd wanted to check on his friend the moment he was brought in but had had to be present for the reporters that were going to be given the story of Granger's being a traitor. Kirkland wouldn't jeopardize Colby's life further by even calling the safe house to find out about him.

They had had to create a story that would be accepted by those Colby had been spying on. Their hopes were that, with Colby 'dead' and the government revealing 'the fact' that he was a traitor, those Colby had been interacting with would continue with their plans instead of closing up shop – in which case, the DIA would have to start their investigation all over again, with no one on the inside this time – and all the work that was put into this, and the possible loss of Granger's life, would be for not.

What Colby had been doing, had been attempting to do, was exceedingly dangerous, but it was something he said needed to be done and that he'd been almost tailor made for, given the situation – his connection to the soldier. Dwayne Carter, the passenger in the humvee with him when it was hit with an RPG, had already been compromised. He had known about Granger's family history and played on the honor he knew Colby lived his life by. With Carter's saving his life by getting him out of the humvee, Dwayne effectively owned Colby's life. And he used that leverage to get Colby to become a spy – or so he thought.

While Colby was completely shattered by it, the blonde was able to keep it together when he found out that Dwayne Carter was a spy. While Granger had immediately wanted to report the soldier, Colby hadn't been unthinking of the situation. If Carter was compromised, who else might be? With thoughts such as those running through his mind, it had taken Colby several hours to get hold of someone on base he thought he could trust.

Granger had done a tour with the Criminal Investigation Division and had decided that his safest route of reporting Carter would be to give the information to the CO he'd had while with them. After Colby had done that, the DIA had wanted the CID to see if they could get the soldier to go undercover as a covert intelligence operative for them.

Thus, Colby had met Michael Kirkland, Section Three Director from the Defense Intelligence Agency.

While Colby had come from a distinguished line of military personnel, Granger had been somewhat naive in some things. Michael had found out, through a very embarrassed and ashamed young man, that Carter had seduced and then threatened Colby into a relationship with him. Using that and then later, the humvee incident, Dwayne was absolutely positive that Colby would do anything he was instructed or asked of him in order to keep his and his family's honor intact and his 'homosexual tendencies' from getting him, Colby, dishonorably discharged.

While the military now had the DADT (Don't Ask, Don't Tell) policy in effect, the majority of people only obeyed the letter of the law and not the spirit for which it was intended. When Carter had threatened Granger with revealing their relationship, the young man had been exceedingly brave to report him indeed because, before DADT, things would and could have been very bad for the blonde soldier.

During the first part of Granger's year undercover, Colby had told Michael that he'd found out that the only way Carter had gotten him to have sex with Dwayne was by drugging his beer. The morning after, Carter had arranged a bunch of evidence of their supposed consensual coupling, thus effectively letting Granger know that he had let himself be taken by Carter and that the blonde had returned the favor, with great enthusiasm. However, by that time, it was too late. While they had had only a couple of other, relatively consensual times together, Colby was already assigned the mission and in too deep to back out – not that he would have because, no matter whatever had gotten him there, what he was doing needed to be done.

As the months went by, Colby had eventually told Michael, as a friend, that he was in a relationship with the FBI agent/sniper/instructor, Ian Edgerton. It was Colby's hope that, if things went bad, Michael would tell his oft times lover that what was being said about Colby wasn't the truth. But Granger and Kirkland would have to see how the cards fell in order for that hope to reach fruition – if things went to worst case scenario.

When Michael had learned that _both_ Colby and Ian had been shot, his priority was to get Colby to a safe place. If Colby survived, DIA needed to know what he knew in order to salvage the mission. By the time the Director had that relatively taken care of, Eppes had moved on Ian, putting him under house arrest and effectively cutting the sniper off from all contact besides the FBI.

While Kirkland knew that Colby wouldn't outright tell his lover anything about his mission, Michael had hoped that Colby would have taken enough precaution to leave some sort of hint behind for them to find his laptop. Michael was betting on that clue being recognized by Edgerton. But in order for that to happen, Edgerton had to be free to find whatever Granger had left behind, _if_ there was anything, that is.

How to get Edgerton away from the FBI, to get the sniper out of the hospital, was one of Kirkland's biggest challenges right now. It had to be done in such a way that the DIA, nor the mission, were compromised.

* * *

Colby may not have had any control over his body, but there were parts of his mind that were all his at times and when he was aware enough to know what was going on around him. The former soldier knew that Michael needed him to recover; knew that the mission he'd been on was in jeopardy now that he'd been shot. Colby did his best to communicate to Kirkland that he could hear him and understood his need but, like they say, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

As time went by, while his body used all of its strength to heal, Colby's consciousness was far from being inactive.

Somehow, Colby found himself able to talk with his lover and, not only that, but he'd been able to hold, comfort and make love to Ian. Colby had no idea how or why it was happening but he wasn't going to complain; it was obvious that his lover needed him. He had never seen the sniper so emotionally unwrapped. And when Ian had told Colby that he loved him…

While Colby knew that he was alive, he _was_ in a coma, a coma that he may never recover from. And Ian didn't even know that from what Colby could make out. So the desperation that they had made love with in this… dream/vision state… was entirely what it was. Each loving the other with such anguish… hopelessness… was heartbreaking and bittersweet at best. Especially with Ian declaring himself so brokenly and then, seemingly moments later, shouting it to the heavens when Colby begged him to say it again.

Since Colby had no idea how all of this was working, or how to control it, he waited anxiously for another chance to see Ian. As he waited, he kept himself occupied when he was 'conscious,' by going over memories; his favorites being those of he and Ian's time together.

This time, Colby's memory focused on the morning after his nightmare at the hotel they'd stayed in, their first night back in the states.

****

While Colby had had a couple of girlfriends over the years back home, he hadn't found anyone truly special until almost a year before he'd enlisted – they'd been together for about eight months by that time – and Colby had fallen head over heels for her. They had promised to keep in touch during his time in the military but things didn't work out like they'd wanted.

It wasn't either of their faults. Colby didn't blame Melissa and she didn't blame him. Melissa wasn't the type of young woman to sit idly by and wait for her man to come home and Colby wasn't the type of man to hold her – them – to promises made by someone who clearly wasn't ready for such a commitment. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, but Colby had had friends, duties and responsibilities, to help get him through it.

And then, by the time the humvee attack had happened, he was embroiled with the 'relationship' with Carter.

However, unlike Carter, Colby's friendship with Ian was… it was easy, comfortable and there were no … it was just… right in ways that the one with Dwayne weren't. In hindsight, Colby realized that the 'relationship' with Dwayne was entirely fabricated, aimed at just one goal – get Granger to turn. Even saving his life in the humvee was a string to make Colby dance to the tune he wanted.

Colby hadn't really realized what had happened during and after his nightmare until he had awoken the next morning, wrapped up Ian, treating him like a giant teddy bear. Coming awake, warm, comfortable, with a strong arm wrapped around him and Colby's legs tangled with the other man's, was a… well, it was a relatively new and… nice… _very nice_… experience.

****

Colby came too slowly, the sensation of being wrapped up with another warm body, being comfortable with a slightly hairy and strong arm around his chest and legs woven with another's was… … a relatively new sensation. Blinking his eyes, things came into focus, mentally, and he realized that it was Ian he was tangled up with. Laying still, Colby sought for any evidence that the man was awake. Finding none, Colby moved with care, turning around slowly and quietly, not wanting to wake the black haired soldier or aggravate his burned arm.

He vaguely remembered waking from images of flames; the smell of gasoline and fire; sensation of pain; vague yelling and the stench of fear, into warm and strong arms wrapped around him; being rocked back and forth; one strong arm now petting his back and a calm, friendly voice talking quietly to him.

Colby remembered thinking that, God in Heaven, he was going to die, right then, right there. As the memory faded from his eyes and the forefront of his mind, Colby had simply made himself a little more comfortable in the sniper's arms and then sagged against him, far too shaky to do anything else. He felt Ian's heartbeat and focused on that wonderful sound of life, how it stayed calm and easy; soaking in the stillness of the man and using it like a lifeline to pull himself together.

However, before he could thank his friend or anything, Colby found himself falling into exhausted sleep. His mind might wonder if he would ever be able to sleep a night through again in his life, but his body obviously had other plans. But he remembered… something moving… and Colby was so comfortable, felt safe and warm… he didn't want that to change and held on to whatever was trying to stir around him.

His friend's voice was there again, whispering to him and Colby calmed, easing more into healing sleep. An unknown amount of time later, that calming, soothing, warm and comfortable presence was back and Colby curled up to it, wrapping his arms around it and settling, finally, into deep sleep.

Colby realized, now that he was awake, that he must have been a significant hindrance to his friend's sleep. Coming back from his thoughts, he found Ian's brown, almost black, eyes looking at him with a mix of emotions, the most prevalent being concern.

The blonde blushed, looking downwards only to come across Ian's naked, firm chest and decided that he should just either get out of bed or close his eyes. Before he could do either, one of Ian's hands had grasped his chin and lifted his face up so their eyes met.

The concern was still there, but there was also tenderness, understanding and slight amusement. Ian's mouth was turned up at the corners, "You doing alright this morning, Colby?"

Colby tried to duck his head again but Ian wouldn't let him. Nor would the sniper let him move it to either side. He wanted to squirm out of the man's hold but Colby realized that he probably shouldn't move because, to his further embarrassment, he was aroused and it _wasn't_ just morning wood.

Swallowing, Colby just nodded his head as much as he could with Ian's strong hand holding his head up to face him.

The blonde felt the pressure of Ian's hand begin to lessen and started to move when something in the black haired man's eyes flashed, then Colby felt Ian's other hand brush against his boxer covered erection, which grew harder at the contact. Ian's beautiful eyes widened slightly and Colby's blush deepened to beet red.

"I suppose I shouldn't ask if that's," Colby felt another soft touch on his cock, "for me?"

There wasn't anything in the question but the tone of someone who wanted an honest answer.

Colby had had a girlfriend before Melissa who had… gotten him into a compromising position once. He'd been a complete gentleman to her but apparently Sarah had wanted more, so during a dinner at his parent's place – of course – the girl had decided that Colby had needed to loosen up and preceded to get him out to the barn where she had effectively tied his hands behind his back, around one of the supports to the loft and brought him to orgasm.

While he had quietly tried to talk her out of it, Sarah had completely ignored him and, by the time his second to oldest brother walked in on them, it was too late to stop it.

Matthew had just walked in on them, finding the girl down on her knees, Colby tied up and hitting the back of his head on the support, biting his bottom lip almost enough to draw blood to keep himself quiet. Colby's eyes opened just at that moment, seeing Matthew's shocked face, and then the Sarah had deep throated him and Colby's eyes had shut, an expression of shame and ecstasy on his face as he bit his bottom lip enough to draw blood this time, his body jerking into the girl's swallowing throat.

After Matthew had gotten Colby untied, he'd called James, their oldest brother out to the barn. While he, Matthew, took the girl home, James had talked with Colby about things… especially females who weren't exactly what they seemed.

Melissa and he had had sex, just before he had shipped out to training camp. They had talked about it a lot and made sure that both of them were safe – she was on the pill and he used a condom. And it was completely different than that time in the barn.

And then there was Carter.

But what he felt for Ian was… it was so different then any of the previous three 'relationships.'

Looking into Ian's eyes, Colby took his courage in his hands, hoping that at least he could keep their friendship somewhat intact and was incredibly honest. Nodding, "Yeah, it's for you. I'm sorry… I just—."

He was stopped by the hand that was holding his chin moving down and grasping one of Colby's own hands and then putting it on Ian's own erection. Colby's breath had hitched, his heartbeat immediately going into double time and swallowed.

"You don't have to be sorry. But you do have to be sure." Ian looked at him intensely. "Are you sure this is what you want, because, I have to tell you, Colby, that, from the first moment I met you, I've really wanted to fuck you."

Colby's mouth opened and his eyes widened. He looked completely astonished.

Ian smiled, chuckling, and wrapped his hand around the cock that had jumped slightly when Ian had said he'd wanted to fuck Colby. "You're body seems to like the idea. What about you Colby? What does your mind say?"

_What about my heart?_ Colby had thought to himself but dismissed it quickly.

Having no experience really, Colby had simply leaned into Ian, uncertainly moving forward to kiss the sniper. However, with that movement, Ian seemed to understand that Colby would need help with… expressing himself.

When they started undressing each other – not much to take off really – Colby had been uncertain about… well… everything. So nervous about what was about to happen, Colby had blurted out that he'd only been intimate with three people – stopping himself from telling his hopefully-soon-to-be-lover that two of them had pretty much been non-con in dubious ways – and watched as the sniper tried very hard to keep his astonishment from showing on his face.

After that, Ian was… God… no one had ever treated him so … not gently… _tenderly_, at least, not since he'd gotten out of diapers. The sniper calmed and soothed him with warm and gentle caresses, whispered words, light kisses on Colby's head and temples. It was like Colby was one of the wild Mustangs out in the mountains and Ian was determined to calm the stallion, to 'break' him in and bring the horse to heel.

While Colby had enjoyed what he and Melissa had done and had been speechless at what Sarah had done to him, the blonde hadn't really felt what he'd heard many others speak of. Even with Melissa, the girl he'd made promises with, there seemed to be something unfilled within him.

And while Colby had supposedly loved what Carter had done to him the first time, the second time they were together, the blonde could only think that he must have been drunk off his ass to have said something so false.

Colby didn't want to analyze why he wanted to … have sex… with the sniper, but he did. There was _something_ about what he and Carter had done, despite how Colby felt about the entire experience, that had felt… closer… to … some nebulous, still unformed, unfulfilled thing within him and he wanted to know if it would be the same with Ian.

The blonde had never had cause to question his sexuality until that night with Carter. After that, Colby had been pretty preoccupied trying to figure out what about himself had made Dwayne think he would be interested in having sex with him. Of course, with the hindsight gotten through the mission, he knew that Carter hadn't put any thought into it other than getting power and control over Colby. It hadn't really been about sex. So there was no reason for Colby to figure out what within him may be calling out to other males.

But, obviously something was, if Ian … well… if what Ian was doing to him now was any indication.

For all intents and purposes, Colby was a virgin. His dark haired lover spent a considerable amount of time just making Colby _feel_ everything that he was doing to him.

Like right now, Ian was sucking on his right nipple while slowly rubbing himself against one of Colby's thighs. Colby could feel the temperature change where Ian's precome was smeared on his skin and where the moisture stopped, leaving dry skin. Ian moved slightly and the hair from the thigh that was between Colby's legs brushed against his balls and the base of his erection, back and forth, back and forth.

Moving again, Ian brought their mouths together and Colby experienced the best kiss in his short fucking life. While Colby lost himself, utterly, in it, Ian wrapped a hand around both of their cocks and started stroking them, root to tip, smearing their precome all over both.

Soon, Colby found himself thrusting his pelvis into the rhythm that Ian had settled on, panting, sweat having started to bead up on their bodies made moving against each other even better. Since he was on the bottom, Colby had instinctively wrapped his arms around Ian. After a time, Colby's hands had found the black haired man's ass and began pulling the man into him, harder and faster as Ian sped up their movements.

Before long, Colby was feeling the beginning of his orgasm and he shook his head; he didn't want to come yet! It was too soon! He didn't want this to end, ever!

He didn't know how Ian knew but the man started whispering to him.

"Let it come, Colby. Let me see you come. We've got plenty of time, Colby… this doesn't have to be it. Let me see you come, let me hear you. Please Colby, let me see you come."

Against the assault of Ian's words and actions, Colby didn't stand a chance and soon, far too soon for Colby's liking, he was shooting his come all over Ian's hand and in between their bodies, calling out Ian's name – which completely astounded him.

Must have gotten to Ian too because it was at that point that Colby felt Ian's release and, to add to his shock of just a moment before, his dark haired lover bit him on the shoulder. It didn't draw blood, it would just leave a mark on him that would last for a few days but, it was his reaction to it that really boggled his mind.

As soon as Ian bit him, Colby jerked hard, more seed spilling from his seemingly dry cock and he gave a full body shudder, a combination whimper/groan and Ian's name called out in a voice that sounded… God, was that _his_ voice… it was … jeezus… it was pure submission/want/desire/lust/sex all in one.

Ian jerked his head back, blinking at Colby and Ian's eyes went completely black and a hungry look took over and then Colby was being kissed and caressed and… Colby's eyes rolled up into his head and the next thing he knew, he was being gently and tenderly cleaned with some washcloths and hand towels from the bathroom. Ian looked to him with concern.

"You alright, Colby?" While the sniper was trying hard not to show it, Colby must have really worried him.

For Colby's part, he just continued to look into the dark brown eyes of his lover, blinking. Swallowing, Colby simply nodded his head and reached out to his lover. When Ian took his hand, Colby pulled him back on top of him, bringing his mouth up to gently and tenderly kiss the darker man's lips.

… Something had happened that… Colby needed some time to think… but he didn't want Ian moving anywhere away from him.

Moments later, Colby felt the need to show Ian what he'd learned from his lover.

****

Hours later, at Colby's insistence, Ian had his blonde lover turned over on the bed, resting his backside on hunched up legs. Ian had gotten to the point where he was able to move three fingers in and out of Colby's ass without too much trouble and the blonde would have been a pile of goo on the bed if Ian hadn't been using one hand to steady him.

"Oh God, Colby. You look so fucking good with my fingers up your ass. I can't wait to put my cock there and just see it vanishing inside of you again and again and again."

"Ian! You're gonna make me come if you keep doing that." Colby was doing his best to keep himself from exploding, going so far as to grab his hard on and pinching the base painfully.

"Roll over, Colby." Ian's voice was as husky as Colby had ever heard it and the very sound of it shivered down his spine making him need to pinch himself again.

"I thought you wanted me on my hands and knees." Colby responded just as huskily while moving to his back. Getting a look at Ian's eyes, the breath went out of him.

"I changed my mind. I want… I," Ian closed his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to get himself under control, but it didn't seem to be doing much. "I need to see you when… while I'm inside of you."

Up to this point in time, Colby had never seen the sniper anything but calm, cool, collected, focused. But this, this was … Colby had never, ever, been the point of such hunger, yearning, desire and intensity before. The words were stopped before they could even be half formed in his mind and then…

… Ian was pushing inside of him and Colby was… Colby _was_.

"Oh God, Colby. So tight, so good, so beautiful, so … Colby." Ian was whimpering, moaning as he moved in and out of his blond lover.

Colby couldn't do anything but look at Ian. Watch his lover's eyes get darker and darker, run his hands through Ian's hair and then he pushed himself up, pulling Ian down at the same time and crushed their lips together. And just like that, Ian seemed to lose control and just pounded into his fair skinned partner. Colby pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around the black haired man and then pulling him back down to the bed with him. Flat on his back again, he continued the kiss as Ian adjusted and then resumed his pounding.

Colby, panting, unwilling to give up Ian's mouth, gasped out, "Harder." A moment later it was, "Faster."

He had no idea what Ian was feeling but Colby felt as if he were literally growing wings… that something was breaking out of him and when it was finished, he would fly. As his orgasm hit him, all he could do was scream Ian's name into his lover's shoulder. And then he left his own mark on Ian.

With the bite and the scream, Colby felt Ian tumble into ecstasy… over the edge and then fall back to Earth on top of him.

****

Neither of them had known what to do about what had happened between them other than revel in it.

Over the years, whatever that had happened to them in that hotel over those few days and nights, continued. And Colby loved it; wanted more of it; needed it to survive.

Colby loved the way Ian loved him, he loved Ian's hands and mouth and cock and ass and… Having Ian riding him into orgasm; sucking that hard shaft down his throat, feeling Ian shuddering and whimpering… they were things that Colby would never, ever forget.

And each time they got together… Colby couldn't help _falling for the man all over again_.

The blonde hadn't ever wanted to think too long on that revelation, given his track record with any type of intimate relationship. He hadn't wanted to put too much into it because he had always been afraid that Ian would never feel the same. And he would have done almost anything to have kept the dark haired sniper in his life.

Now that he knew Ian loved Colby just as much as he did the sniper… it was more bittersweet than he could have imagined anything being.

Colby felt the tug at him that meant Ian was somewhere close. A smile lit the blonde's face as he was pulled towards where ever he was going to meet his lover.

He hoped to be able to tell Ian what was going on so that Ian could try to finish the mission for him – or at least get all the information Colby had been going to give to Michael from his laptop – but there was never enough time.

However, when Colby was pulled to Ian next, or vice versa, Ian was in no shape to talk covert intelligence.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 8  
__Paragraphs – 98  
__Lines – 381  
__Words – 4702  
__Characters – 21217  
__Characters w/spaces – 25967  
_**NaNo Day Total – 4702  
****NaNo Total – 25909  
****Actual story – 31645  
**

There seems to be a lot of differing opinions regarding 'do coma patients dream/reach REM.' So, I'll leave it to the experts to say yay or nay regarding if Colby's dreams/visions were possible or not.


	14. Essence of Colby Day Sixteen NaNo 2009

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

_Essence of Colby – NaNo 2009 – Day Sixteen_

Colby knew something was wrong the moment he 'landed' in a hospital corridor. Feeling the significantly reduced tug, he followed it to an isolated corner room where an agent he didn't recognize on sight, stood guard in front of the door. Continuing to follow the pull, Colby moved right through the wood, like something you'd see a ghost in a movie do.

What he saw on the other side was enough to make him grab at the doorjamb to keep him from going to his knees.

The man restrained to the bed was Ian, even though he was bloodied and bruised and seemed almost completely unconscious.

The man that was just finishing pounding into Colby's dark haired lover, back arching, ass clenching in release, was… Don?

But not a Don Eppes that Colby had ever had the fortune of seeing or meeting.

"Ah, Edgerton. You've no stamina. I would have thought, with your reputation, that you would have held up much better." Don sighed dramatically before moving himself off the semi-conscious body of the sniper. "I know how much Colby used to work out. I bet, as soon as he finished with you, he'd have to go find somebody else for another couple of rounds to finish himself, huh?"

Not getting a response, Don punched the other agent in his wounded side once more. Ian tried to gasp in a breath but the gag made it incredibly hard as Don's double chuckled with delight.

Colby realized that Don had blood on him, but it was obviously not his.

The former soldier couldn't comprehend what he was seeing and, for another moment, he couldn't move due to his shock.

"Maybe I should have ordered the hit on you and not him. Although, with as sloppy as they did it, you taking two bullets, I guess I should be lucky that you both didn't die."

At that, Ian moved a bit but it was clear that he didn't have the strength to do anything right now, but Ian's eyes were cold as they looked to Don.

Colby blinked. Don had ordered the assassination of him? Ian had been shot?! Twice? Why hadn't he seen that the last time they were together?

Don shook his head, looking at his watch. Making a tisking noise, Eppes continued, "I hate to think that's all you've got Edgerton. We've only been at this for about five and a half hours."

Eppes reached down into the bag that had held so much innocent looking equipment and Ian let out a small groan that only Colby seemed to hear. Standing up, Don took the cap off the prefilled hypodermic needle, "Can't have you telling anyone anything, of course." Ian didn't even move when the needle pierced his skin and the lead agent injected the contents directly into the sniper's arm.

Don shook his head, "Although, considering how out of it you already are, I hope that sedative doesn't kill you."

As Colby staggered to the bedside, completely speechless, Don moved into the bathroom. A moment later, he heard the shower come on and then touched Ian's molted face. The sniper's eyes barely flickered before he gave into the darkness.

****

"Ian!" Colby called out his lover's name, reaching him just as the man stumbled and fell to his knees.

They were, once again, at the camping spot they'd been to all those months ago but Colby wasn't interested in anything around him except for Ian. Colby gathered the man up in his arms and held him as tightly, yet gently, as he could while the sniper sagged in his embrace.

"Colby… miss you… love you… so tired…." Ian was struggling to keep his eyes open and Colby knew, he just _knew_, that if Ian fell asleep right now, he'd never wake up.

The blonde struggled with all he'd seen and heard, trying to wrap his mind around everything, trying to come up with something coherent to get Ian to respond to. He had to keep him awake!

"Ian… what the hell?" It wasn't what he'd intended but it was what came out of his mouth.

Ian chuckled, hoarsely and brokenly, "You and… me both… Cole."

"God, I love you and miss you too, Ian." Colby placed a kiss on Ian's brow. "Why didn't I know you'd been shot? I mean… we were naked and there wasn't …." Colby trailed off, shaking his head. He had been going to say '_a mark on you_,' but Ian had lots of marks on him.

The sniper made as if to shrug and then stopped, "It's how… visions work some… times." He looked like he wanted to say more but that it was too much for him.

"Visions. What's the difference between visions and dreams?" Colby asked, not only because he was curious and wanted to know, but to keep Ian conscious.

"Visions usually come… from the spirit… world. It's how the… dea…" Ian's voice broke but Colby didn't think it was due to his injuries, before continuing, "the dead… communicate with the living."

"Dead. You think I'm dead?" Colby gripped his lover a little harder than he intended and Ian groaned. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Ian."

Ian nodded his head once. "… You're dead, Colby. I was in… ICU too. I … felt your… it was like… that night in… the hotel. I just… felt that you… needed me. And then… then you were gone. They had… to restrain and … sedate… me… I was fighting… so hard to … get to you. Tore my … stitches open."

Colby closed his eyes, unwanted images of what Ian said, flickering into his mind. Oh God, what Ian must have been going through. He'd been shot, he'd been in the ICU when Colby's heart had failed and then gone into respiratory arrest and then the 'undercover' nurse had slipped Granger the medicine to essentially put him in a medically induced coma… on top of all that… what _Don_ had been doing to him!

When the blonde opened his eyes, he found tears running down Ian's temples and into his hair, eyes closed.

"Oh God, Ian, I'm not dead, I swear!" Colby said, the lump in his throat making his voice low and harsh.

His black haired lover opened his eyes, sadness swamping whatever hope may have been in them.

"Ian, I swear. I'm in a coma, but I'm being taken care of in a safe house by the DIA. I swear it, Ian. I would never lie to you about something like this! I _am_ alive." Colby had to make Ian believe this, he had to. Colby needed Ian to be alive and… Ian had to be alive when Colby recovered. Or it just wasn't worth going back.

"DIA? They say… you're a… traitor." Colby recalled some of the things Ian had said to him during the first two times he'd seen him and shook his head hard.

"I've been working for DIA for about a year and a half. Carter, you remember him, the one from the humvee?" Colby waited to see Ian nod before continuing, "He … he was a spy, for the Chinese. He approached me – thought he could turn me. I reported it but the DIA asked the CID if I could go in undercover to see if I could find Carter's superior/handler. I found a lot more than they bargained for. The night I was shot, I was going to meet with my own handler to pass on my latest report."

Ian appeared to be following what he was saying and sensing they didn't have much time, Colby continued.

"Ian, you've got to get my laptop to Michael Kirkland at DIA. He's my boss there; he's Director of Section Three. If that laptop doesn't get to them, all this work is gonna be for nothing." Colby's eyes widened, just now figuring out some more of his mission's puzzle.

"And you have to tell Michael that Don is the sleeper agent!"

Ian nodded his head, swallowing, his eyes opening wider as well. "If they'll let me see you, see that you aren't dead, I'll do whatever you need me to do, Colby."

Colby swallowed, his own emotions threatening to choke him. Gently lifting his lover up, he placed a gentle yet loving kiss to Ian's lips and then moved up to his forehead and repeated the gesture before fading away.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 3  
__Paragraphs – 40  
__Lines – 127  
__Words – 1400 (exactly!)  
__Characters – 6120  
__Characters w/spaces – 7542  
_**NaNo Day Total – 1400  
****NaNo Total – 25909  
****Actual story – 31645  
**

Creative artistic license on the visions thing :) 'cause I did not research this tonight – OMG!


	15. Special Author's Notes Day Seventeen

Special Author's Note post for those interested, otherwise… Day Seventeen looks like it will be Day Eighteen at this rate so… check back tomorrow for more story.

**FYI** (Taken directly from the _NaNo_ website): **_National Novel Writing Month_**_ is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30._

_Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly._

_Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down._

I constantly have to keep all of that in mind because: I'm pretty detailed; I don't like posting 'inferior' work – stuff that hasn't been researched, – I have a definite tendency to research my stories to death by the way – at least a little, or that hasn't been gone over with a fine tooth comb regarding most details and such; I used to be a perfectionist but that's eased up over the years, thank goodness.

Since I'm doing some notes, I thought I'd also give you a few 'behind the scenes' things that might help you understand where the fic is coming from.

A friend of mine just mentioned that she couldn't write – she was speaking of poetry – unless she was inspired, to which her professor told her that if that was the only way she could write, then she wouldn't write much.

I have to say… I'm kind of the same way. I've never been able to creatively write something (fiction/sci-fi/fantasy related) from an outline. Of course, I write my ideas down, one I've even gone as far as creating a map for – poster board; colored pens; legend of mountains, rivers and etc. – but I've never been able to come up with an actual outline of … how a story is going to be 'blocked out.' Usually, I get an idea for a story… start writing things down… then incorporate them into the story where they 'feel' good and go from there.

Actually, I have to say that I'm pretty surprised at how many stories I've really and truly been able to write, following that 'seat-of-the-pants' way of doing things. And, considering some of the stories, I guess it can be good. However, considering the WIP that looks like it will never be done and people are clamoring for me to finish, that's not a good thing at all.

Doing this NaNo has helped me understand that… I _do_ need to follow my muse, but that I can still use the tools of 'blocking out' some aspects of the story so that I don't get lost in what I'm trying to create – which totally kills the motivation to write it, of course (for me) – and to sustain the motivation that I had in the first place, to put something out there.

It's also _shown_ me that, if I have all my proverbial ducks in a row, I _can_ sit down for a specific period of time per day and actually, truly and really, write something that isn't going to suck. Which, in turn, has shown me that becoming a real/true author isn't a 'dream' that is impossible to reach.

**So, details:**

The idea of Don being a Sleeper Agent hit me right out of the blue.

**First.** A sleeper agent is (as defined by Wikipedia): a spy who is placed in a target country or organization, not to undertake an immediate mission, but rather to act as a potential asset if activated. Sleeper agents are popular plot devices in fiction, in particular espionage fiction and science fiction.

There are many ways of creating sleeper agents, some truly complex and others just pure sci-fi. The easiest seems through 'brain washing,' torture, drugs, psychological conditioning and such.

In the Numb3rs universe, Don is a vital character, obviously. Making him be 'the bad guy' was difficult because I knew that it would upset a lot of people. And _how_ I was going to have him be the Sleeper was going to destroy any chance of redemption for him.

How? ( unfortunately doesn't like links so, if you want the links, head over to my LJ via the 'homepage' link in my profile.) In the Babylon 5 universe, one character's name was Talia Winters. It was found later in the series, that she was a Sleeper Agent and that, by telepathically sending a specific word or phrase directly into her mind, the Sleeper Agent personality would take over, completely destroying the 'real' personality of the person.

When I came up with the idea for Don, I thought, why not have one phrase to bring the subconscious Sleeper Agent personality to the forefront to follow specific instructions and then, during a climactic scene, have another phrase uttered that would bring it to the forefront but completely destroy the 'real' Don's personality, so the Sleeper Agent was there full time.

A short discussion with a friend of mine, where she suggested that, instead of destroying the 'real' personality, have Don be in there (mind) somewhere, still fighting the Sleeper's hold over him and have someone (she said, "like Blair" [from The Sentinel series fandom] or _someone_) who knows about brain washing, fix him.

Personally, I liked that idea.

**Second.** I've looked around and gotten differing information on where exactly Don stands on the ladder of the chain of command within the LA FBI office. The 'regular' Wikipedia says that in one place that "Don is an FBI Special Agent who runs the FBI Violent Crimes Squad in Los Angeles." But later on the same page it says, "Having been Special Agent In Charge of the Albuquerque Office, Don took a demotion in order to obtain a position as Special Agent in the L.A. Field Office…."

So, for this fic, it would be easier if Don were in the top administrative branch of the office – even though in the series, I'm pretty sure he isn't, for a variety of reasons.

**Third.** Like I mentioned, I have absolutely no idea where this story is going – and it's driving me a little nuts because _I don't_ – because, when I started this, with no outline or anything, I started with a 'pre-written' beginning and the muse took it from there, believe me. I wanted Ian and Colby to go camping in Yosemite and end up running into some bad guys. Obviously, the muse had other ideas.

**Lastly.** I don't mean to confuse any of you with any of the story or give you too much info with this "Author's Note" post but…

I read this again last night and spotted a couple of things that I thought needed explaining.

Colby had already kind of figured out that Ian thought he was dead (Day Fifteen) but I completely forgot that when I was writing the end of Day Sixteen – blame it on writing 30k (this includes re-written parts) in 16 days along with regular life.

Also, the numbers on Day Sixteen are incorrect; Day Seventeen's total is correct – I'm not going back to fix 16 'cause… well… I'm tired and don't wanna worry about it /laugh.

Still over 22k to go /sigh and I'm flagging badly /wry laugh.

At any rate, I hope you're enjoying the story because it's been interesting to write and… it's a true seat-of-the-pants story.

Thanks so much for the story/author alerts and the favorite story/author picks :)

Take care and be well,

Julie


	16. Essence of Colby Day TwentyNine

**For disclaimers, warnings and etc., you must see the prologue/chapter one.**

ANs: As you can see, I've missed several days but…

_(NaNo Day __Eighteen__ Twenty-Nine)_

Just as Colby faded away, Ian's eyes closed.

Then the sniper felt himself being lifted into strong arms, nestled into a torso covered with a roughish garment. It seemed to have soft bits… like feathers and fur… and smelled of herbs and wilderness, horse and wolf, berries and woodsmoke. However, the harder Ian struggled to open his eyes, the more exhausted he became.

****

Ian was aware that things were happening around him, that things were actually being done to him and within him, but he wasn't cognitive enough to understand what those things were, for an unknown amount of time. The sniper heard chanting and the song of drums; he felt their beat inside of him, touching places that needed healing… medicine…

… Ian came awake gradually; slowly enough that he didn't realize he was entirely conscious until the chanting and sound of drums had faded into the popping and hissing campfire commenting to the darkness of the air around it.

Turning his head to the left, Ian found that he was actually somewhat in the middle area of a tepee, the open fire just a couple of feet away. Checking his body, carefully tensing and releasing each grouping of muscles, Ian found no pain anywhere; just a peacefulness of self and the fatigue that came from long meditation.

However, when he made a move to sit up, Ian was overcome with dizziness and a set of hands helped him to lay back down, readjusting the blankets that covered him. When Ian's vision cleared and his head didn't feel like it was going to roll off his shoulders any time soon, he looked to the right.

The woman was clearly of Native American decent, with straight black hair that was threaded through with white/silver, braided on either side of her head and deep, dark brown eyes. She wore a headband made of animal skin and beading, the braids ended in some type of ties that were of the same materials and pattern. As she was sitting 'Indian' style, Ian couldn't tell, but he thought she was wearing a long dress made of animal skins, beaded similarly to the headband and ties. It also had feathers and… what looked like small animal bones, mostly teeth, attached to it as well. Her skin was golden from years of summers spent under the sun.

"_How are you feeling, Little Bear with Cougar Spirit?"_ The woman asked.

At least that's what Ian heard in his head because, by the movement of her lips, that isn't what she had said.

The woman smiled and chuckled slightly. _"You are clever, as I had known you would be. I speak in native tongue, but the young ones in this time would not be able to understand, so… you are hearing me in the White Man's tongue."_

Ian blinked and the woman smiled again, laughing lightly this time.

"_I am Wolf Who Runs with Horses. Grandmother of the Medicine People who are your ancestors, from a time when the buffalo still roamed free and the ways of our people were all we knew."_

Ian blinked again, one eyebrow rising towards his hairline.

"_You may simply call me '_Grandmother_.'"_

The sniper recognized his people's word for Grandmother and bowed his head with respect, earning another smile from the woman who sat near him.

Smiling more fully, she asked again, _"How are you feeling, Little Bear with Cougar Spirit?"_

Ian took a deep breath, sitting up slowly. "Surprisingly well considering everything I've been through."

Grandmother – that was going to take some getting use to – nodded her head, smile fading slowly. _"Yes, you do seem to have gone through a great deal in such a short time. I have talked with the Father of your Father and he has said many good things about you. But your journey has been difficult."_

The elderly woman passed him a bowl with some type of stew, urging him to eat. "_You must regain your strength. Fox that Soars with Eagles needs to know that you are well._"

"Colby?" At once, Ian moved as if to get out of the cocoon of blankets he was wrapped in.

Grandmother made a motion of her hand, staying him. _"Fox that Soars with Eagles is not your concern right now, Little Bear. He is being looked after but what you need to do is eat, drink and rest." _

Ian took a breath, wanting to argue that Colby needed him, that there were so many things that required his attention, especially now since he was aware of them and healthy. However, before Ian could open his mouth to voice anything, the elderly woman was speaking once more.

"_I did not bring you to the Spirit Planes to argue with you, Little Bear with Cougar Spirit. Yes, you have much to do but you will not do that if you do not finish healing."_ Grandmother's Presence was heavy and strong around them. His Grandfather had had something similar when he was laying down the law with Ian or others. _"If you do not finish what healing has been started, all that work was for nothing. And, unlike the peoples of your time, mine did not waste such things."_

The sniper bowed his head in acceptance of the admonition and with respect. "You are wise, Grandmother. Forgive me for questioning it."

The woman laughed lightly, _"You only wish to follow your heart, to help Fox that Soars with Eagles, and to put what is wrong, right. There is no need to forgive such things, only the impatience that accompanies them."_ Ian felt a tender and gentle touch by a calloused and strong hand stroke his forehead before sliding through his hair. _"You make our people proud, Little Bear with Cougar Spirit._

"_Now, eat, young one."_ Grandmother ordered.

* * *

The next morning, Don woke himself, thrashing around on his bed and completely soaked in sweat. It'd been a long time since a nightmare had affected him so much, but this one… Images of himself sexually abusing Ian Edgerton were just too… Don found that he was shaking, his breathing fast and shallow, and fought to calm himself.

He realized that he felt sore and lethargic in ways that only happened after he'd spent a long night with a woman… and… his hands hurt; looking at them, he saw bruised knuckles, a couple of places showing torn bits of skin.

And… his butt hurt… in an entirely unfamiliar way.

Feeling unnerved and ill at ease, Don grasped for memories of the day before. _What happened?_

And for the first time in Don Eppes' life, he wondered if it would be better… safer… for him not to know.

* * *

Ian had fallen back to sleep after eating the stew and drinking the fresh water Grandmother had provided so, when he woke up back in the hospital, it took him a moment to get his bearings.

He examined his wrists and then his ankles, – finding no pain when he contorted himself to do so – used his fingers to explore his face and then checked both bullet wounds and nodded his head with satisfaction. While Grandmother's art of Medicine healed much, Ian realized that she had left just enough superficial damage to bear witness to what he'd suffered from the shooting and the assault. As he'd planned to check himself out of the hospital against medical advice, this would certainly make things better – not having to worry about internal bleeding and other wounds would clear his head of distractions that might otherwise prove deadly.

When the door of his room opened, Ian found himself on guard, not knowing what to expect considering Don's alien behavior of yesterday, only to see a nurse coming in with his breakfast tray. She must not have been paying attention or just had no idea of what his injuries were exactly because she took no action regarding his wrists or face.

Once the woman left, Ian started in on his meal, knowing that he needed it to keep up his strength.

* * *

As soon as Don arrived in the bullpen, an hour later than he usually did – but still before actual working hours – Megan told him that their boss wanted to see him the moment he'd gotten in. Eppes frowned slightly but nodded to the profiler and headed to the elevator after putting his leather jacket on the back of his chair.

When he arrived at the antechamber that served as waiting area and office of the Assistant Director's secretary, Don was waved directly in to face an obviously perturbed superior.

"Director." Agent Eppes said in lieu of anything else.

"Eppes. When I came in this morning, I found this on my desk." The director held up the sheets that contained the photocopied charges against Ian Edgerton. "I'll let you guess what the first hour of my day has been spent dealing with," his boss finished with a significant glare.

Don knew what the copied pages contained because he'd filled them out while he was on guard duty at the hospital; had dropped it in his out basket last night with a follow-up email copy to the AD's office before he went home. Before Don could do more than nod his head and open his mouth, the Director was already speaking.

"Agent Edgerton is a premiere sniper, a decorated agent _and_ former soldier, and an instructor at Quantico. You can't just arrest him as a possible accomplice to Agent Granger – even if he was sleeping with the man – without evidence.

"If you believe that Agent Edgerton is involved, get me that evidence but, as of right now, Edgerton is to be released from house arrest."

Don's jaw worked slightly, "Sir—."

"You are not going to argue about this, Eppes. If you suspect him of aiding and abetting Granger, then you put him under surveillance and collect hard evidence against him – nothing circumstantial. I'm already getting flak about this from both Washington and Quantico and we _don't_ need the press getting hold of this considering what's already happened with Granger."

With that, the Assistant Director stared Don down, effectively dismissing him at the same time.

* * *

As Don was upstairs, Megan, who'd been charged with releasing Ian from house arrest, was already on her way to the hospital. When she arrived, she found the sniper, one wrist handcuffed to a bed rail, eating his breakfast. Or had been in the midst of eating it, because when she opened the door, Ian was obviously on guard, seemingly edgy about who was entering. Once seeing it was Megan and no one was with her, Ian went back to his meal.

Approaching the bed, Megan saw that both of his wrists looked inflamed and the skin was torn, broken and had begun to scab over. Looking him over more closely, the woman saw new bruises coming to the surface on almost every part of the sniper's body that wasn't covered by his hospital gown or the bedding. Ian's face also showed what looked like the markings of being beaten.

"Stop staring, Reeves, and tell me why you're here." Ian's voice seemed strained; a little harsh and hoarse at the same time. Megan belatedly saw marks around his mouth, leading her to think that he'd been gagged.

Unable to hide her frown, she answered, "The Assistant Director's ordered you to be released from house arrest and I'm here to get you outta the cuffs." She pulled out the keys to unlock the restraining device, continuing without so much as a breath, "What happened to you?"

Ian had expected this question and, somewhere in the sniper's mind – a part that had always been set aside for thinking during stressful/emergency/deadly situations – had wondered, not only this morning but some time during the assault itself, how Don was going to pass this off.

Ian could almost see how the question would be phrased to Don, probably – hopefully – in interrogation:

_Agent Edgerton had been in somewhat much better shape before you, Agent Eppes, spent your entire shift of guard duty _inside_ the sniper's room. Since neither you nor Agent Johnson, outside Edgerton's hospital room door, left your positions or had anything of note reported, how did Agent Edgerton get to look like he'd been assaulted after your shift?_

Given that train of thought, Ian could only assume that Don wasn't the only one compromised in the FBI office. And that meant he had only one real option.

Ian had to go underground.

****

Getting rid of Megan wasn't easy. Not only because she wasn't one to let things go, but because the profiler was already thinking along the lines of that interrogation question Ian had drummed up in his head.

Megan had been informed, early yesterday afternoon, by David, that Ian had been placed under guard. She also knew that, while Ian had been released from house arrest over two hours before she'd reached the hospital, the Assistant Director hadn't wanted anyone to know about it until after Don had arrived in his office.

Be that as it may, the wounds present would not have been as visible or scabbed over as they were, within the amount of time that Ian had been released.

Despite all that, the sniper finally got rid of the female agent and a few minutes later, called for a nurse. The assistant was a lot easier to buffalo into doing what Ian told her to and soon, he was discharging himself AMA.

The only clothing left to him after the Emergency Room staff had cut them off, was his shoes and socks. One of the nurses was kind enough to provide him with a set of scrubs and his remaining possessions. Someone from the office had obviously confiscated his gun; while Megan had returned his FBI identification, there wasn't any need for his sidearm while Ian was still in the hospital.

Although he was thankful for the scrubs, given the only other option was to continue wearing the hospital gown, Ian wouldn't make it far dressed in them – especially when he'd need to lose whatever surveillance _anyone_ had on him. If he headed back to the hotel, at least he'd be able to get some clothes.

However, not knowing what the FBI had on Colby or what Don may have fabricated regarding himself, – or who was holding the leash on Sleeper Don – the sniper was uneasy with the thought of going there for any of the possessions he'd brought with him this trip.

His mind constantly aware of what was going on around him, Ian headed for the hospital's 'lost and found.'

****

People left things in patients' rooms; in a hurry to get out of the facility, they were usually too occupied with medical instructions and the stress of a loved one or some friend having had to be at the hospital. Others who came via ambulance or somehow or other ended up in the ER had a tendency to have their clothing removed forcibly. Sometimes they were like Ian's and were soaked with blood and other bodily fluids, but there were many that came through that were in really good condition.

As Ian quickly went through the racks of apparel, looking for anything in his size that wouldn't draw too much attention, the sniper began constructing a mental list of his priorities, formulating, creating and discarding options and plans.

He needed to get off the grid as soon as possible.

* * *

Jilleann knew she wasn't going to make it out of this alive. She had no energy reserves at all; her supplies were completely depleted and she was bleeding, badly.

Keeping her cool as she looked around, the woman sought out any way of escape but saw none. There were no friends running to her rescue, no good guys in white hats coming to even the odds. Taking a desperate chance, Jilleann lunged to her right, rolling as much as her wounded body would allow.

But her attacker sprang on top of her before Jilleann could get to her feet.

Stunned with a firebolt, Jilleann was then dispatched with the sword of her attacker.

As Jilleann's game character died a horrible death, Sergei's laughter came through loud and clear in Jilleann's headset.

Sighing heavily, she looked over to the second computer setup where Jilleann could see her friends, via webcam. All of them were laughing now and she huffed out an amused sigh. Giving a smile to the computer scientist in Russia, she made the comment to all of them. "Glad you find my death so amusing." Shaking her head, Jilleann reached for her mug of tea, taking a deep drink of the now cold beverage while the others carried the conversation.

Sergei Petrov, Russian; Chao Jiang, Chinese; Yohann Diefendorf, German and she, had been friends for a few years now. Over that time they had weathered much, including killing each other many times in the world of online gaming.

Looking at the clocks that represented her friends' time zones, Jilleann knew she had to bid them goodnight. While they were adults and could stay up late, each of them had relatively important jobs they had to get to in the morning. Being in America, she had several hours yet to fill before her day was done – even if she was an independent contractor who worked at home.

"Another night passed with all three of you taking turns killing the 'decadent agent of a corrupt Western power.'" Jilleann smiled, quoting one of the James Bond movies they had all seen at one point in time or another.

"It is not our fault that you picked that puny human to bear your honor, my Lady." Yohann joked.

"As if that ogre is any better to you, my friend." She responded, ignoring Chao as he raised an eyebrow and smirked, making no comment about how that ogre had killed the human more times than vice versa.

Before anyone could comment further, Jilleann was making shooing gestures at her webcam, "Ok, off to bed with you all; I'll not be blamed for any of your experiments, computer coding or underlings doing wrong tomorrow."

Laughing heartily, the three men signed off and Jilleann logged from the game. People who were geniuses in their field, whether recognized or not, needed downtime every now and again – to keep the brain from losing its ability to create – and she and her friends used what time they each had available to them to keep their treasured friendships from fading.

As the majority of Jilleann's entire life revolved around computers, most of her socialization was based on relationships made via them. A handful of years ago, when Jilleann had become mired in someone else's drama, she had come across the three men through a variety of circumstances. Opening up her own coding program, the woman smiled thoughtfully, working to get back into the flow of internet security once more.

Word Statistics

_Pages – 6_

_Paragraphs – 79_

_Lines – 284  
_

_Words – 3151_

_Characters – 14638_

_Characters w/spaces – 17817_

**NaNo Day Total – 3151**

**NaNo Total – 30460**

**Actual story – 36196  
**

As mentioned in my 'Special Author's Notes' section, "…. it would be easier if Don were in the top administrative branch of the office – even though in the series, I'm pretty sure he isn't, for a variety of reasons."

A friend found some more info and, according to that:

"…_. The field offices are located in major cities throughout the United States. Each is headed by a Special Agent in Charge (SAC).__6"_

#6 in the footnotes section says, _"Very large field offices, such as Los Angeles and New York City, are headed by Assistant Directors in Charge (ADIC), rather than SACs."  
_

This is the last update for NaNo count. As this was my first year, I think I did pretty good :)

To those wondering, yes, I will attempt to continue with this but I make no promises on regular updating. Also, I will do my best to keep the quality of the story as well as to complete it. Thanks for reading :) And thanks to those very few who reviewed!


	17. Essence of Colby Day Thirty NaNo 2009

_I was going through my folders today looking for something in particular and came across this. It was supposed to be Day 30 for NaNo but ... I just couldn't force myself to post it in its condition; however... I'm posting now (with no editing or anything) because you all have been so patient, and it's at least *something.* /chuckle****_

[This is total quantity for NaNo – come back later to flesh out and edit.]

Ian was finally able to get out of the hospital, somewhat decently dressed from the clothing found in the hospital's lost and found area. Grabbing a taxi, he went to one of the most crowded shopping places he could think of that wasn't too far away. While getting out of the cab, he surreptitiously looked around and spotted at least six likely surveillance people. Four were definitely FBI, the other two could have come from DIA.

Ian inwardly smirked and chuckled to himself – six people to keep an eye on him. Obviously they were all very aware of his training and were putting a significant amount of resources towards keeping him from disappearing.

The sniper's eyes gleamed; this would be a challenge.

***

An hour later Ian was on the other side of Los Angeles at one of the many bolt holes that he'd established around the United States throughout the years. No one knew about any of them and they were stocked with everything that he might need for just such an event as this. There were a variety of weapons and ammunition, forms of transportation – a couple of cars, trucks and even motorcycles, communication and computer equipment, camping and hunting supplies and, most of all, money.

Ian grabbed a backpack and filled it with a few 'burn phones,' a couple of guns with a few clips of ammunition, a laptop with power cord and a couple of extra batteries and a couple thousand dollars. Taking the time, he changed clothes and then ate lunch from the stores he had – using the camping stove to heat it and make some coffee.

All through this, he constructed a basic plan, adding options to it as he ran through various scenarios in his head. While he had the training and a lot of the equipment he needed; Ian wasn't James Bond. Hell, even James Bond wasn't James Bond. No one person could do everything that movie character did because you couldn't specialize in everything.

However, Ian made a habit of collecting people, people with skills that he knew would come in handy in a variety of areas. With all of the people he had connections with, Ian was certain he'd be able to find out where Colby was, what the FBI – or Don – had on the blonde and himself, who was pulling Sleeper Don's strings and everything else. It would just take time.

Thing is, Ian didn't think he, or they, had much time.

* * *

Jilleann was well into her third mug of tea when her cell phone rang, interrupting her train of thought on the complicated code she was putting together. She didn't recognize the number on the caller ID but since very few people had her contact information, Jilleann took the chance that it wasn't a wrong number.

"This better be important," was her greeting.

"It is, I'm in trouble."

Jilleann blinked, "Edge?"

"One and only. Nice to hear your voice, Jille." Ian used the nickname he'd gifted her with during the time he'd spent with her.

"Been awhile, but I know you've been busy. What's wrong and how can I help?" Jilleann recalled the time she'd spent with the sniper when they had both inadvertently gotten involved in someone else's messy drama.

Ian relaxed, not knowing til she made the offer, how tense he'd been. Taking a breath, he gave her the scoop on what was going on. She knew about Colby…. He and Jilleann had clicked on a deep and somewhat powerful level, but his heart had already – however subconsciously – belonged to Colby, and it was with an incredible mixture of emotions that they had parted ways, remaining only friends.

"I've gotten into the FBI databases a few times before, shouldn't be too hard to do it again because I left myself a backdoor. I have only had to get into the DIA at a superficial level once though; that one's going to take some time though." Jilleann was already tapping at her keyboard, biting her lower lip slightly after the comment, a slight furrow of her brow showing her concentration.

"I don't care how long it takes, Jilleann, I need to find him. And I need to find his laptop. Any way that you can do that?"

Jilleann cocked her head to the right, still working with her system. "Well, if it were powered up and connected to the internet or broadcasting some type of single, like a GPS, then yeah, no problem. But if it's not doing any of that then… not really." The woman didn't want to tell Ian that she couldn't do it but even she had her limits.

Ian nodded, even though she couldn't see him, "Figured as much. I'm hoping that, whatever the FBI took for evidence, that Colby somehow found a way to leave some type of clue to where it is. But it would have to be something that would only be known to me."

Jilleann repeated the nodding gesture. "Yeah. So, you need pictures and copies of documents and items of everything 'cause walking right into the building would be suicide pretty much." She started downloading all the files that had anything to do with 'Colby Granger,' 'Ian Edgerton,' and, just to cover her/their bases, 'Don Eppes.'

"I assume you've got some type of computer setup to download everything I'm getting for you." Jilleann was opening files, one after another, looking for the seized possessions and such from the raid on Colby's apartment.

"Yeah, I'm all set for whatever you've got." Ian chuckled, remembering Jilleann's lessons on covert computer/internet hacking – having found a place that wouldn't be noticed terribly much, unless you were actually looking right _at_ the location, for excessive internet usage and file transfers.

"Good, 'cause here it comes, Edge." And Jilleann sent each file to him after scrubbing it of anything that might send a signal back to momma computer and get them all in trouble.

"Thanks, Jilleann." She could hear the sincerity in his voice, almost picture the expression on his face.

"Anytime, Ian. And keep me in the loop – because, if you don't call me every 24 hours until this thing is settled, I'm going to fly out there and start looking for you, both of you, myself. And you _know_ how I hate to fly!" This was no ideal threat she was voicing; Jilleann hated flying. She actually wasn't comfortable with being away from home – actually preferring to stay in her own apartment, where she could control her environment as much as possible.

Ian bowed his head, swallowing. That Jilleann would do such a thing, for him, for Colby, made a lump form in his throat. The woman was incredible really – even with all her mental and medical conditions. He was lucky to be in her network of friends.

"Thanks, Jille." He swallowed, trying to clear his throat, "I'll do my best to keep in touch. But you have to promise me that you'll keep your head down. If things get dicey, I need to know that you haven't been pulled into this." Ian's voice was commanding.

Jilleann took a deep breath and tightened her jaw.

"Jilleann."

Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes.

Over her lifetime, Jilleann had hid her intelligence, making sure that her entire educational career was nothing but just slightly above average. When she'd been in grade school, Jilleann had learned real quickly about showing her smarts – not only at school, to the teachers and her classmates, but at home as well. However, during her years of that, she'd done everything she could to self-educate herself on the side.

After getting out on her own, not only did she go to college but she did a lot of independent cyber study. Jilleann had been smart enough to create an entire fake persona for herself so that when she did something notable, it wasn't linked to her. This is how she was able to blow her instructors away with online study and still be able to live off the grid.

Unlike last time, when her part in the little adventure with Ian occurred, if Jilleann embroiled herself in Ian's current predicament, she might have to reveal herself.

"Jilleann, you are not to take any chances with your autonomy. You've got a great life with no one really knowing who you are; it's kept you safe and protected. I can't have you endangering yourself for me or Colby." Because of their connection, Ian knew that it was a risk to bring Jilleann into this situation, but she was the best – even better than Amita, who he wouldn't use anyhow given her connections to the FBI and Don.

He heard her take a breath. Ian was afraid that he wasn't going to be able to keep her away and realized that his heart was beating a mile a minute with his anxiety over it.

Just before he was about to open his mouth again, to beg, to plead with her to stay out of it, her voice came across the line. "I swear Ian, if you don't keep in touch at least once every 24 hours, I will track you down and kick your ass. If you die…." Ian heard her swallow, breath hitch.

"I understand, Jille; believe me, I understand. I'll call you, I promise." God, he'd forgotten how deep she was in him; Ian's eyes overly bright and stinging slightly. "You probably won't be able to contact me because I'm going to be throwing away phones often. I'll only be using the laptop covertly as well. But I swear, Jilleann… I'll call you. I promise." He finished.

Hearing her take a deep breath, he echoed it unconsciously.

"I gotta get going. Thanks for the help, Jille. I'll call you tomorrow if not before."

Jilleann nodded, eyes closed, hearing Ian disconnect. She had known he wouldn't let her say goodbye; it would have been too hard after such a… an emotional call.

However, she couldn't help thinking what he'd hung up to avoid hearing.

_Be careful, Ian, please. I love you._

* * *

He'd been right. Colby had left him a clue as to where the laptop was.

Sitting in one of his bolt hole cars, Ian did a visual recon of the area. He didn't think anyone else had understood the significance of the telescope in the picture of their camping spot in Idaho or put it together with the other of Colby wearing a tie that featured a bunch of constellations on it. However, it was always better to error on the side of caution.

The Griffith Observatory. As far as the sniper knew, Colby had never had a chance to actually go there. If he'd been caught up in this undercover mission for as long as he'd said, Colby wouldn't have had the time to check the place out as an actual interested visitor given getting moved here, doing his 'day' job for the FBI and then working undercover for the DIA.

That meant that either his laptop was here or that Colby had left him another clue to follow.

Not seeing anyone who stood out as someone doing surveillance, Ian put his sunglasses on and then the hat and jacket he'd brought for further camouflage of his appearance. As he headed towards the building, Ian kept an eye out for anything that might lead him to whatever his blonde lover needed him to find.

It was almost an hour later, Ian's frustration building, that he came across what could be something from Colby. Looking around, he surreptitiously made his way over to the wall that was shadowed darker than the surrounding area and found a door marked 'maintenance.' Checking the mark he had barely seen, Ian smiled inwardly.

Pulling out a lockpick, he soon had the door opened, closing it snugly behind him before searching for an overhead light. Looking around, it was obvious that Colby wouldn't have left his laptop here. But another clue? Definitely. The room was small but it had a lot of hiding places and, twelve minutes later, Ian found what he was looking for.

It was a picture of a boat. Granted, it could have belonged to one of the maintenance crew but Ian knew this boat. Colby had told him of it once – about the man who owned it actually. An Army buddy – more of a friend of a friend of a friend – who had been honorably and medically discharged and, after being so long in the desert, decided to open a fishing business.

On Catalina Island.

***

Getting to Catalina Island had been easy; so had been finding Henry Jackson's business. However, finding whatever it was that Colby had left behind – either clue or laptop – was going to prove difficult. Ian had done everything but openly tossed the establishment, the boats or interrogated the employees.

The sniper sighed. He was going to have to take a chance and expose himself.

Ian decided to grab some lunch first as there was no telling how this would turn out. If he had to go on the run, the sniper would need the energy.

That turned out to be a very good idea.

Sitting in the restaurant, his back to a wall but with a view of Jackson's business, Ian had a unimpeded view of one black SUV pulling up to the front of the office and four people getting out – one wearing a jacket emblazoned with 'FBI.'

Ian swore inwardly, making no change of expression or any movement on the outside, as he recognized Don and David.

Like any other person in the restaurant, he continued eating but surreptitiously continued to watch the agents; Don and David going inside while the other two went around the building, looking for whatever they had been told to keep their eyes open for.

Before long, the two he didn't recognize headed in Ian's direction.

* * *

Don had been almost furious when he'd learned that Edgerton had slipped through four agents hands not long after leaving the hospital against medical advice. Rushing into the War Room, Don handed out assignments to Megan and David; as Charlie walked in, Don turned around, barely acknowledging him before giving him a synopsis of what was happening and fairly ordering his brother to come up with a way of tracking the sniper.

Before anyone could really voice anything, Don was storming out of the room and back to his desk.

Blinking, the others struggled to bring their minds back to their assignments and put aside their puzzled thoughts regarding Don's behavior.

***

Late morning the following day, they seemed to get a lead in the form of a former Army man who'd retired due to medical issues. The man probably wouldn't have come up in any relation to Colby if he and Granger didn't share an acquaintance named Martin Bishop.

While Don sent Megan and three other agents to interview Bishop, he took David and two others to talk with Henry Jackson on Catalina Island.

* * *

Having scoped out the area earlier, Ian knew there was a side door and one in the back and that the bathrooms had no actual windows. With the agents being a few feet from the main entrance, Ian left his table, a tip sitting near his plate, and was at the register, paying for his meal. As they entered the restaurant, the sniper was exiting through the side door.

Getting lost in the crowd, easy to do on such a beautiful day when people were thick in the street, Ian looked around cautiously, seeking out a good hiding spot where he could observe what Don and his agents did.

Finding a place, he was just in time to see David and Don coming out of the building being followed by a man in a wheelchair. At this distance, he couldn't hear anything they were saying and, without binoculars, Ian couldn't read their lips. He watched as Don pulled out a couple of photos, showing them to the man – Jackson. The man in the wheelchair pointed to one, nodding his head but when David pointed to the second, Henry shook his head.

As Don put the photos back into an inside pocket, David gave the disabled veteran a business card, nodding at the gentleman. When they both turned away, heading for the restaurant the other two agents had headed for earlier, Jackson wheeled his chair around and went back inside.

Ian opted to stay where he was for a time; watching Don and the agents with him as well as Jackson's business. It was early afternoon now and he figured that if he couldn't get into the office or speak with the owner before evening, he'd wait until after dark to break into the office and look for whatever Colby may have left behind.

***

An hour later, Don lead the other three out of the restaurant and back to the SUV. Ian watched them drive away and then waited another forty-five minutes before moving towards Jackson's business, continuing to be on guard for anything.

"Agent Edgerton."

Having entered the building, Ian was surprised to find the owner behind the desk, clearly waiting for him. Before Ian could turn around to see if he needed to run, the veteran was already talking to him.

"Don't worry, I haven't said anything to the FBI. I've done enough covert work and other projects that I'm willing to listen to what you have to say. I knew Colby, at least by reputation."

Ian relaxed slightly; he had a chance to get what he needed.

The sniper wasn't coming in cold either. He'd done his own investigation of Mr. Jackson, finding nothing to give him cause to doubt the man right off the bat, and was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Not one to dance around anything usually, Ian baldly said, "Colby Granger is not a traitor and I intend on proving it. He left _something_ with you and I'm here to pick it up."

Jackson looked up to Ian, from his seat in his wheelchair, with a poker face. "I know your reputation as well Agent Edgerton. I seriously doubt you'd stick your neck out like this for just anyone. Granger must have meant a great deal to you."

Ian's expression didn't change but he realized that he talking to the man as if Colby were still alive. "He's… he was… a good friend – they're kind of hard to find nowdays."

Henry nodded, "Yeah but there aren't many people who would be willing to end up in a federal prison for treason for a 'good friend.' Especially posthumously."

Before Ian could frame a response, another man entered the office via a back door. Eying Ian up and down, the man then looked to Jackson who gave him a slight shake of the head. Expression easing, the lean, dark haired individual came over, putting a hand on the disabled veteran's shoulder.

The gesture was more than supportive; it spoke of intimacy, of comfort and warmth.

Ian looked from the new arrival's hand to Jackson's face.

Clenching his jaw, Ian took a breath. "Yeah, but for Granger, I'd go to Hell and back again, no questions asked. And I'd do it more than once if need be."

Jackson held eye contact for a few more seconds before relaxing and then nodded his head at the sniper.

"Mike, could you get that package I've been holding for a friend." It wasn't a request but the man in question treated it as if it were.

"Sure, Henry. Be right back."

* * *

Ian had decided that the best place to look at the information on the laptop that Jackson had kept hidden for Colby – including flash drives that had been mailed to him infrequently – was back at his bolt hole. Once there, he'd powered it up and started going through some of the files, starting with the latest ones. In a matter of moments, Ian had realized what Colby had stumbled upon and understood why Don's superior/handler/whatever wanted him dead.

Sighing, Ian tilted his head back in his chair, blinking his eyes. This was a Hell of a lot bigger than finding a Sleeper agent or others who had been compromised by a foreign country.

Running one hand through his hair and over his face, Ian couldn't help but swear.

"Shit."

Long moments later, after arguing with himself about it, he finally came to the decision that he needed to call Jilleann. Not only for the promised check-in, but for what he'd found, what Colby had come across.

If this was real, Ian was going to need help. Major help and, despite his fear of putting Jilleann in mortal danger, she was his best chance of survival (?).

Picking up another burn phone, he dialed her number.

* * *

"Since losing surveillance on Agent Edgerton, both the FBI and us, no one's been able to find him. Agent Eppes seems to be excessively furious, especially since the Catalina Island lead didn't pan out, but other than that, there isn't anything new."

Michael Kirkland sighed at the latest report one of his staff briefed him with.

The agent's mouth quirked and Michael raised an eyebrow.

"The man just isn't a social butterfly. Other than emails to his Quantico account from students and faculty, the odd phone call now and again and reports to his superiors, Edgerton seems to be a complete loner."

Kirkland nodded. However, he knew from Colby, the man kept in touch with the Grangers as well as a few other people. His staff had gone over Edgerton's bank and phone records and found sporadic calls to Colby's family and Colby himself, but nothing that would suggest any type of real relationship – just acquaintances checking in with each other now and again.

The covert intelligence director could only assume that Ian communicated with, not only Colby and his family but also to those other contacts, as clandestinely as possible. As Michael thought about this, he came to the conclusion that, while they had no idea where Edgerton was, they knew where all of Granger's family were.

"Put a tap on all of Colby's immediate family. If we can't find Agent Edgerton, we can at least backtrack him from any communication he might make with them."

The female agent nodded her head, making a notation in her PDA. "What if someone's already doing that?" She questioned, not only meaning the FBI.

"See if you can backtrack them as well. Maybe we can find out whoever went after Colby, perhaps even lead us back to the Sleeper." Kirkland commented, his mind going over a variety of options and scenarios that came to mind. He might not have been in the field over the last few years, but he was well informed.

"Go through Edgerton's files, see if there're any people in it that he'd stay in touch with. A man like him has knowledge of hunting, fugitive retrieval, teaching, instincts – he wouldn't throw away a weapon, or a resource, I'm betting." Michael said, his eyes focused inward, almost muttering to himself.

Greg nodded her head, again making a notation in her PDA.

When she'd first joined the agency, the woman had little experience but had been willing to listen and learn. Over her career, only a couple of years, Susan had come to respect her boss a great deal. He had an almost instinctive knowledge of the covert intelligence and espionage business; something that made him a target in many circles.

A sigh from Kirkland brought her back to the present. "We need Colby's laptop." Taking a sip of the now cold coffee that sat on his desk, he corrected himself. "We need Colby awake and aware _and_ the laptop."

***

Across town, Colby Granger continued to his comatose state in the DIA safe house.

* * *

Back in the FBI building, Megan was trying to keep her mind on the investigation of Colby and Ian's shooting and their search for the sniper, pushing thoughts of the abuse Ian had suffered as well as Don's strange behavior, to the back of her mind.

However, they wouldn't stay there.

Ian hadn't wanted to tell her anything about how he'd gotten all those bruises or the lacerations on his ankles and wrists. He had done everything but throw her bodily from the room; telling Megan that it didn't matter and there were other things that needed their attention.

Megan should have known that he was going to AMA and bolt. Ian's reaction to Colby's death had been… significant. Of course, he'd want to clear his deceased lover's name of the charges that had been brought against him. And then, when Don had placed him under house arrest as an accomplice and then released, Ian would have had no other choice but to investigate everything on his own, having basically been barred from access to the FBI databases and resources.

Frowning slightly, her thoughts continuing while she was bent over her desk looking through paperwork, Megan wondered at his ability to do anything without seeing what the Bureau had. Slowly, the profiler sat up, looking to her computer, her mind coming up with a disturbing thought.

She was certain that Ian wouldn't ask either Charlie or Amita to access anything on his behalf, but what about someone else, someone they didn't know. Did he have access to someone who could get passed the FBI firewalls? Having no clue about the security that protected their computer systems, Megan headed over to the IT department.

If her suspicions were correct, Ian would have everything that they had, right at his fingertips.

***

It wasn't until a day later that her thoughts were confirmed. If Megan hadn't brought it to their attention, the IT department wouldn't have had any idea that their firewalls had been breached. As it was, it took the entire crew over fifteen hours to even detect it.

Whoever had done the deed was, according to the IT supervisor, a 'bloody brilliant computer wizard.' Even Charlie and Amita couldn't wrap their minds around everything he told them the wizard had done. However, the worst part was, there seemed to be absolutely no way to backtrack the hacker.

"I mean," Agent Faraday, the IT Supervisor, stated, "if they got back into the system now, we'd be able to know it, of course. Probably even be able to track them back to a point of origin. But right now?" The man simply shook his head, his awe at whoever it was still on his face.

Don was livid; so angry that his face was flushed and he was completely silent.

"So, you're sure the only files touched were those of Agents Granger, Edgerton and Don?" Megan needed to be sure of the information.

Faraday looked nervously to Don before answering, combining the affirmative with a simple nod.

David looked to Don as well but when the lead agent didn't respond, the handsome black man returned the nod. "Thanks, Bruce. Keep us in the loop if this happens again, please."

Agent Faraday relaxed slightly at the dismissal. Making his way to the door of the War Room, he hurriedly replied and then left.

**NaNo Day Total – 4533**

**NaNo Total – 34993**

**Actual story – 40729**


End file.
